


Ōjisama's Quest

by Floater1010



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Fluff and Humor, Light Angst, Non-Graphic Violence, Original Character(s), Romantic Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-03-02 05:11:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 26,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18804382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Floater1010/pseuds/Floater1010
Summary: This is a different place, a different world, and one with a different history. It is one of the many echoes of time and space, and here, soulmates exist – something that is considered by many as holy. This so-called connection between two people is inexplicable to the existing science. Although there are numerous theories that attempt to explain it, the whys and hows of soulmates remain to be one of life's best kept secrets.In this world, a person is born with a mark – a mark that is only half of a set. Once a person sees the other half, it will stamp and weave itself around their mark, finally creating the complete set.That is exactly what happened to Yuri Katsuki at age 12.Only his name is not Yuri Katsuki.His real name is Prince Yuuri – with the title “Prince” before the “Yuuri”.No surname.Prince Yuuri of Japan's Chrysanthemum Throne.Prince Yuuri, Crown Prince of the Rising Sun.Yeah, he's that guy.But he's also Yuri Katsuki, a figure skater.Rinkmate, podiummate, rival of figure skating star Viktor Nikiforov.Confusing?Well, this is how it happened.[The things a prince would do for his clueless soulmate, really.]





	1. Chapter 1

A/N: Thank you to  **SymphonyOfNights** for helping me come up with a title! ^_^

 

**PROLOGUE**

  **[YUURI: 21 years old; VIKTOR: 25 years old]**

 

Yuri Katsuki smiled brightly as he took in the sight before him. The crowd was roaring, the lights inside the stadium were bright, and he was standing at the top of the podium! And on his right... Standing on his right, was Viktor Nikiforov.

 

“Congratulations, Yuri,” Viktor said with a big smile. “I'm so proud of you.”

 

“Thank you, Viktor,” he beamed although he could feel the heat erupting from his face. “I – I did my best.”

 

“And you showed your best, indeed,” Viktor nodded eagerly, blue eyes shining so bright. “You were _beautiful_!”

 

Yuri looked away bashfully and mumbled, “ You too, Viktor... You were beautiful, too...”

 

Viktor laughed and said, “Not as beautiful as you!”

 

Yuri blushed even harder if that was even possible. And then, he remembered their conversation the previous night and Yuri made up his mind.

 

“Hey, Viktor...” The Russian turned to look at him again amidst the camera flashes. Yuri mustered all of his courage as he carefully reminded himself of Viktor's own words. “Can we talk later after all this?”

 

Viktor beamed at Yuuri even as his hand continued to wave at the crowd. “Sure, but what about?”

 

“I just have something to tell you...” he muttered, not looking at the other man at all. For a second, Viktor's hand paused in the air as he looked at Yuri in curiosity. And then, as if he remembered where he was, he smiled again and continued to wave.

 

“Alright! During dinner?” Viktor asked.

 

“Yeah, thank you,” he mumbled. He nibbled on his lower lip and when he noticed that Viktor was staring, he bit down harder than intended. Wincing, he turned away from the Russian skater and forced himself to remain calm and composed. He could do this.

 

Soon enough, it was time to face the reporters and their questions. Yuri sat in the middle with Viktor on his right and the Swiss skater Christophe Giacometti on his left.

 

“Geez, Yuri,” Chris whined beside him. “You didn't even give me a chance.”

 

“I-I'm sorry,” he stuttered not really knowing how to answer. “Uhmm...”

 

Chris chuckled. “You are so cute, Yuuri!”

 

“Chris,” Viktor suddenly chirped. Yuri turned to look at him but... Viktor was smiling, but there was something strange about his smile. His blue eyes were staring coldly at the Swiss skater. Chris simply snorted and looked away, but there's a teasing smile on his lips.

 

Yuri looked at Viktor again and asked in a low voice. “Did you have a fight?”

 

Viktor gave him an innocent look and shook his head. “No? Why do you ask?”

 

Yuri blinked and then, slowly, he shrugged. “Ahmm... Nothing...”

 

Viktor smiled warmly before turning to the front again.

 

The conference then started.

  

* * *

 

   **[YUURI: 16 years old; VIKTOR: 20 years old]**

 

Viktor Nikiforov was having a normal day. He woke up early and fed his beloved Makkachin his breakfast per usual. He went for a jog for a good thirty minutes and went home for his own breakfast per usual. He took Makkachin for his morning walk and went to the rink for training per usual. Just another normal day for Russia's top figure skater.

 

Or so he thought.

 

He noticed something off the moment he shut the door of his locker and words from other skaters sharing the locker room with him flitted to his ears.

 

“I don't understand what Yakov's thinking.”

 

“Well, he's the man of the rink. He can do whatever he wants.”

 

“But to actually train him – HIM of all people?! Is he crazy?”

 

Now, Viktor normally called Yakov a crazy old man, but he earned the right to do so after winning his coach numerous medals. These skaters... He didn't even know their names. In his book, they had no right to insult his coach.

 

He was about to go find where the voices came from with the intent of defending Yakov's honor when somebody's words froze him in his tracks.

 

“That Katsuki just destroyed Nikiforov's Junior records, for fuck's sake! Why's he coaching that brat?!”

 

Katsuki? Who's Katsu... Katsuki. Yuri Katsuki.

 

Snapshots of news article titles flashed through Viktor's mind upon recognizing the name. Yuri Katsuki, the Japanese skater who won it all, the skater who broke all of Viktor's long-standing junior world records, the highly anticipated skater who was about to enter the Seniors next season... Yuri Katsuki.

 

Images of a beautiful boy with jet black hair and bright brown eyes invaded Viktor as he remembered who these fuckers in the locker room were talking about. He was that Japanese skater who everyone expected to be the one to rival him, Viktor Nikiforov. And apparently, Yakov, that stupid old man, was going to coach him. Unacceptable.

 

Instead of pursuing his quest of defending Yakov's honor, he made an abrupt turn and bolted for the door. That stupid _stupid_ crazy old man! What was he thinking?! How could he?! This was betrayal! This was betrayal of the highest level! He ran for the ice rink and almost broke down the boards after slamming his body against it in his desperation to confirm what he had heard. In retrospect, the skaters back in the locker room had not mention anything about Katsuki being in the rink. Either way, there he was. Yuri Katsuki was skating on the ice. On HIS ice!

 

With a slender built, raven hair, and all-black attire, there was no mistaking that figure gliding gracefully across the ice.

 

Viktor growled. He turned his gaze to the side where he zeroed in on Yakov silently observing his newest (not if he could help it!) recruit. With a louder growl, Viktor stamped all the way from his spot to where his stupid crazy coach stood.

 

“Yakov!” he yelled out angrily. “What the hell is this about?!”

 

Yakov turned to him with an unconcerned look, making Viktor bristle even more. The coach simply returned his gaze to Yuri Katsuki who, after hearing him yell, came to a stop not far away from them.

 

“What about?” Yakov drawled. This stupid old coach, Viktor thought harshly in his mind.

 

“What is _he_ doing here?!” he demanded.

 

Yakov merely grunted at Viktor as he called out to the Japanese skater, “Katsuki, run through your program again. Make sure to put more attention to your edges.”

 

The other skater nodded wordlessly, his face blank. He turned away without even sparing Viktor a glance.

 

“Yakov!”

 

The coach sighed heavily and turned to look at him straight in the eyes.

 

“And what is it to you if he's here?”

 

Viktor was taken aback at the lack of concern from his coach. Didn't he understand? Didn't he know what this meant? Was he really crazy?! This boy was the one who broke all of his records! All of them!

 

“He's a competitor from another country, Yakov! Why are you even coaching him?!”

 

The old coach raised an eyebrow at him. “So? I'm legally allowed to accept students from other countries.”

 

“But! But!... But you've never accepted foreign skaters before!”

 

“So I accepted one now. What's it to you?”

 

Viktor stared wide-eyed at his coach in disbelief. He couldn't believe this was happening right now. Why? Just why? Had Yakov lost his mind? Was he really helping another country?! What the fuck was happening?!

 

“Yakov...” He couldn't find the right words to say. On the ice, Katsuki ran through his program without any problem. Viktor was momentarily distracted as he watched the boy's progress. There was no doubt that he was talented. The way his body moved was like music; mesmerizing, elegant, dream-like. At only 16, this boy had already surpassed all talents Viktor had ever seen on ice. Was he really destined to be the one to rival Viktor? To be honest, Viktor worried that... yes. Yes, he was.

 

“Competition is good, Vitya,” Yakov grumbled from his side. “It is hard to turn down a skater with such raw talent, and...” Viktor turned to look at his coach. “Sooner or later, success will bore you.”

 

Viktor frowned at Yakov's words. Bore him? Success would bore him? How would that even happen? All athletes competed to win. All athletes did not compete just to get bored with success. It's what athletes aspired to achieve.

 

“You are a crazy stupid man,” Viktor said petulantly.

 

Yakov hummed, his eyes now back to his new student. “You wouldn't understand it now, but remember this, Vitya: It's lonely at the top.”

 

He really didn't understand what the old man was on about. He was here to win. He was here precisely to win and to stand at the top. How was it possible to be lonely after achieving success? Yep, Yakov was a crazy man.

 

“I still don't want him here!” he said stubbornly. “I don't care what you're saying. I. Don't. Want. Him. Here.”

 

Yakov smirked. “Well, suck it up.” Viktor could have ranted more. He could have screamed and yelled. He could have put up a bigger fight, but the coach immediately barked, “START YOUR WARM-UP NOW, VITYA! IF YOU DON'T WANT TO LOSE, THEN START WORKING HARDER!”

 

Viktor burned with humiliation when he noticed that Katsuki had heard Yakov yell and was now watching them. He could only hope that Katsuki could not understand Russian. He wouldn't want him to think that Viktor was worried about losing to him. Ha! Never! Katsuki still had a lot to prove before he could even call himself Viktor's rival. Hmph!

 

(Unfortunately enough, he learned later on that Katsuki, for some fucking reason, was pretty fluent in Russian. In addition to that, Viktor would later on have to bitterly accept that yes, Katsuki was more than enough to call himself Viktor's rival. Goddammit.)

 

 

 

Yuri's heart was hammering hard in his chest. He had arrived at the rink early this morning to attend his first ever training session with the esteemed Coach Yakov Feltsman, and saying that he was nervous was an understatement. This man was Viktor Nikiforov's coach! His coach! And now, Yuri's coach! Yuri's coach? Wow. Just amazing! But nerve-wracking at the same time!

 

Yakov Feltsman, as Yuri had come to learn, was a slave-driver. He worked him hard right at the get-go. There were no unnecessary pleasantries, there were no unnecessary interactions – Yuri loved it! The old man was brutal with his words, but honest in his intentions, and definitely so effective, Yuri could feel his body begin to shape up and respond better to the necessary motions of his programs. And it had only been the first day! Amazing!

 

And then, he finally spotted him. Viktor Nikiforov. His soulmate. His idol. His rinkmate. Rinkmate!!!

 

But Viktor's body language was not welcoming. Instead, it was screaming with denial and rejection. Coming up to his coach, Viktor yelled angrily and uttered words that cracked Yuri's heart.

 

“ _He's a competitor from another country, Yakov! Why are you even coaching him?!”_

 

Viktor didn't want him here. Viktor didn't like him. Yuri was only glad that his eyesight was poor. He didn't want to see what expression he had on his face. He didn't want to see the dislike, or possibly, the hate that painted his soulmate's face. Viktor didn't want him here.

 

“ _I still don't want him here! I don't care what you're saying. I. Don't. Want. Him. Here.”_

 

Ah... Another splinter in his heart. Yuri fought hard to keep a straight face. He closed his eyes and let himself be swept away with his steps. He should have worn headphones. He didn't want to hear Viktor's words anymore. He didn't want to hear his voice. Funny how he had looked forward to meeting his soulmate for the first time as a skater. Funny how he had decided to become a figure skater to chase after his soulmate to his rink, only for his soulmate to reject him as a rinkmate. Would he also reject Yuri as his soulmate?

 

“ _START YOUR WARM-UP NOW, VITYA! IF YOU DON'T WANT TO LOSE, THEN START WORKING HARDER!”_

 

Yuri stilled as his gaze snapped to the two Russians behind the boards. Now he was regretting not having good eyesight. He wanted to see the truth in those words Yakov had yelled.

 

Was that it? Was that why Viktor didn't like having him here? He was worried about losing? To whom? To Yuri?

 

His thoughts began to whir as he processed that information. Was it really possible? Did... Did Viktor see Yuri as a threat? Well... Yuri did break all of his records. He basically conquered the Juniors and would be coming in to the Seniors as a world champion – pretty much the same way Viktor had just some few years ago. Yuri knew that Seniors was a totally different playing field, but... Maybe it was precisely because of that. The similarities of their achievements probably convinced Viktor that Yuri was coming after him. After all, Viktor had essentially kicked older skaters off the top of the podium and claimed it for himself.

 

Yuri watched as the silverhead sulked his way to a corner to do some stretching. With eyes narrowed, he stared at his soulmate's retreating back. Viktor didn't like Yuri being trained by Yakov because he knew Yakov was the best coach in the world. Being trained by the old coach was synonymous to being a podium regular. Yuri was likely to improve under him and Viktor was worried about that. He was worried of Yuri doing the same thing he did. He was worried that Yuri would indeed become what the media heralded him as: “ _Nikiforov's Rival_ ”.

 

Yuri smiled to himself. So that was it. His beautiful soulmate was feeling threatened.

 

“Katsuki! What are you dallying there for?! From the top, go!”

 

He turned towards his new coach and smiled serenely, making the old man give him a bewildered look.

 

“Yes, coach!”

 

He threw a glance at the blurry image of his soulmate stretching a distance away before focusing on his own training.

 

Japan had flourished to become one of today's most powerful countries, all because of his ancestors' sheer will and brute force. As a descendant of the gods, no matter how much of a myth Yuri believed that to be, he could never deny that his blood sang to conquer – and conquer he would. His pretty soulmate would have to suck it up 'coz Yuri was determined to win his way to his heart, one way or another.

 

 

 

“Hey, Yuri! Come and eat with us!”

 

The Japanese skater paused and turned to their table. He gave them a hesitant look, his eyes flittering towards the silverhead sitting at the table with Georgi, Elena, and Ilia. Viktor was busy wolfing down his food as if not noticing Yuri at all.

 

“Are you sure?” he asked meekly.

 

“Sure,” Elena answered with a nod.

 

Yuri walked over, but as he placed his food on the table, Viktor abruptly stood up and began to gather his things.

 

“Well, I'm done. See you later.”

 

Viktor walked away without even giving Yuri any form of acknowledgment. Yuri looked at his new rinkmates who were staring wide-eyed at the door Viktor had just disappeared into.

 

“U-uhm,” Georgi turned to Yuri awkwardly. “He must be in a hurry. Ignore him.”

 

Yuri simply smiled and began to unpack his lunch.

 

 

 

“Hey, Viktor! Yuri gave us some snacks from Japan. Want some?” Ilia offered as they sat in the break room.

 

Viktor looked at the snacks in Ilia's hands before turning his chin up.

 

“No, thanks. I don't trust those things.”

 

Silence followed as Viktor walked out the room even though he just got there.

 

“Ignore him, Yuri,” Georgi said as he scratch the back of his neck.

 

“He's Russia's golden boy,” Elena said scornfully. “He's a bit of a prick. Don't mind him.”

 

“If he doesn't want these, then I'll take them. Thank you, Yuri!” Ilia cheered as he began to open a pack.

 

“Y-You're welcome...” Yuri muttered softly.

 

 

 

“Katsuki, are those figures?” Yakov asked as he peered on the cuts on the ice.

 

“Uhm... Yes?” Yuri paused.

 

Before Yakov could say anything more, Viktor glided behind Yuri and scoffed,

 

“What a waste of time.”

 

Viktor was already a good few feet away before the affronted Yakov screamed at him to go and do his own routines.

 

 

 

Viktor was dismissing Yuri's presence. That much Yuri realized in the first few months he was in the rink. In the many instances that placed him in the other skater's presence, the silverhead would either walk away or ignore him flat out. One time, Yuri fell on his triple axel and he swore he saw Viktor snicker before skating away. Another time, Yuri was walking along the corridor when Viktor rounded a corner and crashed into him. They fell down on the floor. Instead of helping Yuri up and apologize or at least make sure he was not hurt, the Russian simply stood up, gathered his fallen things and walked away without a word.

 

This was not going to do. It was amusing at first, to be honest, but at the moment, Yuri felt that he was being bullied. His own soulmate was bullying him! He couldn't accept it! Something had got to give, but what?

 

Yuri jumped out of his musing when there was a loud bang across the room. He was so surprised, his glasses fell and cracked on the floor. He turned to look at the source of the sound and... Well, really. He wasn't surprised. It was Viktor and he was smirking as he looked at Yuri's glasses on the floor.

 

“How clumsy,” Viktor drawled before turning away and walked out the door.

 

Yuri's soulmate, at the age of twenty, was a brat.

 

 

 

=========================================================

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

1\. For announcements, follow me here: <https://twitter.com/FloaterEli>

2\. If you've been reading my work entitled “[TOPIC: KATSUKI YUURI](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15093092/chapters/34997150)", you may need a bit of adjusting here since the chapters are really short in comparison.

3\. My focus will be on “TOPIC: KATSUKI YUURI” and until it's finished, “Ojisama's Quest” will be a slow update.

4\. Since I am writing this whenever I feel like I need a break from my other fanfic, the writing style will remain to be simplistic. It will not be as detailed or as in-depth. I will be using ages instead of dates. I will also not write anything about routines. I will however mention results of competitions.

5\. This was supposed to be a oneshot until I realized it was impossible. I'm estimating this to be about 15 chapters.

6\. Yuuri is a a bit more confident here to some extent. He is after all groomed to be Japan's next ruler. I will try not to change him so much, though. I do love his shy, awkward bean self.

7\. I don't know yet if I can fit in social media.

8\. We will know more about this world in the coming chapters.

9. Of course, Yuuri gets all the love and affection 'coz he's my baby. :D


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

The thing was, Katsuki Yuri did not exist.

 

Or, well, he did, but didn't. To be more specific, this identity only saw the light of day when he decided to join the figure skating circuit. Like a spirit that materialized out of nowhere, he came into existence to begin his road to international competitions where he was hoping to stay beside his (unfortunately bratty) soulmate.

 

Before then, Katsuki Yuri was not even in Japan's national registry. In his place, however, was a different name – a boy by the name of Yuuri.

 

And it just so happened that this boy was the only son of Japan's Emperor Toshiya. It also just happened that he was, back then, second-in-line to the Chrysanthemum Throne.

 

 

**[YUURI: 10 years old; VIKTOR: 14 years old]**

 

**TOKYO, JAPAN**

 

“That was awesome, Your Highness!”

 

Yuuri turned to squint at his childhood friend clapping enthusiastically behind the boards.

 

“Yuuko-san...”

 

“You skate as beautifully on ice as you dance on the floor!” Yuuko exclaimed excitedly. “And please do call me Yuuchan, Your Highness.”

 

He huffed as he skated towards the gate and said, “Minako-sensei said it's rude to address people casually.”

 

Yuuko pouted as she handed him his skate guards. “You used to call me Yuuchan, Your Highness. I think it's unfair that Minako-sensei would start insisting protocols now. We basically played together since you were in diapers!”

 

Yuuri simply threw her a passive glance before turning away to walk over to the bench. The girl two years older than him bounced after him and sat beside him as Yuuri pulled on the laces of his skate shoes. Normally, Saito-san would help him with these things, but Yuuri was a big boy. He deemed himself capable of dressing and undressing himself. So now, Saito-san and a bodyguard stood nearby, just waiting and watching in case Yuuri needed something. His other bodyguards stood outside the door of the rink making sure that no one dared go inside the facility. Not like that was a problem. The rink was especially built for Yuuri inside the imperial grounds. With how tight the security was, having bodyguards was totally unnecessary.

 

“You used to call me 'Yuuri-kun', he belatedly mumbled. “Now you call me 'Your Highness'”.

 

Yuuko scrunched her face. “It's different, Your Highness! You're a prince! If I dared call you by your name, it would be considered as insubordination to the crown.”

 

“We basically played together since I was in diapers,” Yuuri deadpanned in repetition of Yuuko's earlier statement, which wasn't lost on the girl as she rolled her eyes.

 

“I still say it's different,” she said stubbornly. She watched as the prince carefully placed his skates inside his bag. “The new season will be starting soon. I wonder if there will be new skaters this year.”

 

“There are always new skaters,” Yuuri answered as he pulled out his shoes from under the bench.

 

“It would be awesome if you can join the competitions,” Yuuko suddenly said. Yuuri just threw her another flat glance. “I mean, I think you will be a great skater, Your Highness! Or a danseur! Whichever you prefer, really.”

 

Yuuri didn't have any answer for that. He never thought about it and it's not like he had the choice in the first place. Anyway, he was content just being able to skate and dance whenever he liked, and his parents were very supportive of his interests. So...

 

“Are you ready to leave, Your Highness?” Saito-san, who had crossed the short distance between them, asked. Yuuri nodded. His retainer tried to take his bag but the young prince glared at him.

 

“Saito-san, I already told you,” he grumbled. “I'm old enough to carry my things.”

 

Akira Saito smiled indulgently but did not say anything. He simply bowed and stepped aside as the prince stood up.

 

“There's first world problems,” Yuuko said as she followed suit. “And there's princely problems.”

 

Yuuri sighed and wisely chose to ignore his friend.

 

 

 

**ST. PETERSBURG, RUSSIA**

 

A young boy of slim built glided across the ice as he ran through his routines for the upcoming season in the sport of figure skating. With his long silver hair flowing behind him and movements so smooth and delicate, he was the perfect image of a fairy dancing for the goddess of the ice.

 

Behind the boards, two middle-aged men stood quietly watching the progress of the boy. They were not the only ones following the young skater. There were others who watched in awe, others who watched in curiosity, and others who watched in envy. The boy, however, was oblivious to everything, so deep as he was in his routine.

 

“He is the one, isn't he?” one man asked.

 

“Depends,” the second man grunted. “He is talented, yes, but he still has to prove himself.”

 

A pause.

 

“Hard as always, Yakov?”

 

The man, Yakov, grunted again. “You don't raise a king to be weak.”

 

The other man laughed. Out in the ice, the boy tried for a jump, but fell and slid across the ice.

 

“Again!” came Yakov's resounding bark.

 

The boy didn't even bother to look at his coach. He simply nodded with a serious look on his face, his blue eyes of startling shade alight with determination.

 

Beside the coach, the man smirked and stated, “It's always interesting to watch these talents evolve.”

 

Yakov sighed heavily and turned to the other man. “Smirnov, if you're done here, then leave.”

 

“So ill-tempered, Yakov,” Smirnov tutted as he picked up his hat from the top of the boards. “I'll take my leave then, but Yakov?” The coach turned and eyed the man as he put on his hat. “He will come in to Juniors a winner, you understand?”

 

Yakov merely bared his teeth which sent the other man chuckling. He turned away with a wave before finally leaving.

 

“Rats. They are all rats.”

 

 

 

**[YUURI: 11 years old; VIKTOR: 15 years old]**

 

**TOKYO, JAPAN**

 

“Did you find him?”

 

“No! The young prince is just here somewhere. I'll go this way, you go that way.”

 

Yuuri opened his eyes as he heard the footsteps hurry away. He was hiding behind the bushes somewhere in the Imperial Gardens, sulking and pouting as he embraced his knees tightly against his chest. It was always like this. His tutors were no fun! They were always droning on and on and _on,_ and Yuuri was dying of boredom! All he wanted was a few hours break. All he wanted was to have some time on the ice or in the studio. Why did he have to learn those boring subjects anyway? Why couldn't he spend more time dancing or skating instead? It was so unfair! They were always telling him what to do and what not to do! He was eleven! He should be allowed to decide for himself. Hmph.

 

“I know you're hiding in there, Your Highness.”

 

The frown on Yuuri's face deepened just as the leaves rustled behind him and Yuuko's head poke through the bushes.

 

“Leave me alone, Yuuko-san.”

 

The girl didn't say anything for a while as she plucked the leaves that stuck themselves on her hair. Once she deemed herself presentable enough, she turned to the prince with a smile.

 

“Minako-sensei is worried, you know,” she said. Yuuri merely huffed and hugged his knees tighter. “You can't keep running away whenever you couldn't get what you want, Yuuri-kun.”

 

“So it's 'Yuuri-kun' now and not 'Your Highness' anymore, huh?”

 

Yuuko grinned. “Nobody's here but us, so yes. I can't take you seriously when you're acting like a toddler.”

 

Yuuri turned his face away, already feeling the shame painting itself on his face. For a moment, they both kept their silence.

 

“It's not like I'll become emperor anyway,” Yuuri found himself saying minutes later. “Mari-oneesama will be taking over after father. I should be free to do what I want.”

 

The older girl waited for him to say more, but when it became clear that he had nothing to add, Yuuko sighed.

 

“We don't really know the future, Yuuri-kun,” she said. “It's always better to be prepared.”

 

“What's so fun about sitting for hours on end listening to them talk about things I don't even care about?” Yuuri grumbled moodily. “They always tell me that I'm a big boy now, but how come I can't decide for myself like they can?”

 

Not really knowing what to say, Yuuko scratched the side of her head. Once again, silence permeated between the two children. Then, Yuuko perked up.

 

“Yuuri-kun! I know just the thing to cheer you up!”

 

The girl stood up and grabbed Yuuri's hand.

 

“I don't want to be found, Yuuko-san,” the boy hissed as he tried to pull his hand away, but Yuuko tugged harder.

 

“You'll want to see this! Don't worry, they won't find us.”

 

The poor boy didn't even have the chance to fight back as Yuuko continued to pull. Not risking the possibility of being dragged all the way to wherever the older girl wanted to go, Yuuri stood up and allowed himself to follow. Ducking behind bushes and trees whenever they spotted an adult, they tiptoed across the vast expanse of the garden. However, as they finally reached the clearing, instead of leading him to the imperial family's residences, Yuuko pulled Yuuri towards the direction of... oh. Yuuri frowned. The Ice Castle?

 

“The rink?” Yuuri asked. “Are we skating? My skates are in my room.”

 

Yuuko looked back to the prince and winked. “We're not skating. At least not yet.”

 

The girl led him up the few steps elevating the building and through the entrance of the facility that was always left open for Yuuri's benefit. Thinking they were heading towards the boards, Yuuri swore he almost broke his wrist as Yuuko tugged him instead towards the direction of the changing room.

 

She pushed the door open, dragged Yuuri inside, and sat him down on a bench positioned right in front of a television.

 

“I was on my way to watch the competition when Minako-sensei begged me to find you,” Yuuko chirped as she busied herself with the television. “Today is the Junior World Championship and I've been meaning to talk to you about it! But you were busy so...”

 

The girl switched the channels a few times before she finally found the right channel.

 

“I don't normally watch the Juniors though,” Yuuri said, eyes on the screen.

 

“Ohhh! It started already?” Yuuko exclaimed worriedly. “I hope he hadn't skated yet...”

 

The prince turned to her friend with a questioning look. “Who?”

 

But Yuuko was already lost in the competition and was not able to reply. Yuuri sighed and watched wordlessly, not really finding the current skater interesting. Two more skaters took the ice and Yuuri was about to tell his friend that he would be sneaking back to his room to get his skates when the announcer declared a name and Yuuko squealed in excitement.

 

“Yuuri!!! It's Viktor's turn!”

 

Not knowing who Yuuko was talking about, Yuuri turned his gaze back to the screen to see a young boy with long silver hair gliding across the ice. The camera zoomed in on the boy's face and Yuuri gasped at how bright the boy's blue eyes were.

 

“Who is he?” Yuuri whispered.

 

“He's the skater I wanted to tell you about! He's Russia's most promising skater and he's awesome!!!” Yuuko gushed. “His name is Viktor Nikiforov and he's 15 years old and he's really pretty and he's really very good and he's really – ”

 

“Alright, alright,” Yuuri blinked at his friend's enthusiasm. He chuckled and said, “You like him.”

 

Yuuko sat beside him and swooned as she stared at the screen. “You'll understand once he skates, Yuuri-kun!”

 

And understand Yuuri did as he watched wide-eyed at the wonder that unfolded himself the longer he stayed on the ice. The other boy was nothing short of magical! With refined grace that befitted royalty, it was no wonder that he was Russia's rising star. He danced on the ice like he was one with it, like he was a fragment that broke free and was now gliding across its surface. And those step sequences! So crisp! He was perfect! He was the perfect skater that the sport have been waiting for all these years! This boy, Viktor Nikiforov, was not just the rising star of Russia but of the sport itself!

 

“Yuuchan...” Yuuri found himself uttering in awe, his eyes still not leaving the boy who was now making his salutations to the crowd after a spectacular performance. “He's perfect.”

 

“I know, right?!” Yuuko exclaimed. “Oh!!! I want to see him perform live! Yuuri-kun, you must invite him to skate here someday!”

 

The Russian boy disappeared from sight and Yuuri turned to his friend with a small smile.

 

“I'll try.”

 

The girl squealed as she hugged the prince. “I can't wait!”

 

The young boy simply nodded to himself, his heart feeling lighter and his mood definitely brighter. He wanted to see more of Viktor Nikiforov's performances.

 

He's excited to see how high the boy can fly.

 

 

 

=========================================================

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

So once again, if you don't know yet, you can follow me here [Twitter: Floater1010](https://twitter.com/FloaterEli) for announcements. I check it everyday, I promise :D

In this story, Yuuko introduced Viktor to Yuuri a year earlier than in the anime. A year later, Viktor would win gold in Sofia.

I'm pretty sure by now you've noticed some inconsistencies. I'll repeat what I said in the previous chapter: We will know more in the coming chapters. Actually, let me edit that. We will know more as the story progresses. Once again, this story is estimated to be 15 chapters. I will inform you if there will be any changes.

Lastly: no. I haven't finished with the TOPIC: KATSUKI YUURI's next chapter. I'm working on it and the only reason why this story gets an update so soon is because it's easier to write. Whenever I take a break from the other fanfic, I work on this and as you can see, this one is really short and simple.

Thank you for reading! ^o^/

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

 

**[YUURI: 17 years old; VIKTOR: 21 years old] - WORLDS**

 

The crowd continued to roar as Viktor stood at the top of the podium. Feeling overwhelmingly smug at winning gold over Katsuki, Viktor couldn't help waving more enthusiastically at the audience. Ha! He proved them wrong! He had proved them wrong! Yuri Katsuki, unlike what the media claimed, was not the one to topple him off the top! HA! TAKE THAT! And he would be doing it again next year! HA!

 

Speaking of, Viktor glanced at the boy standing on his right. Katsuki had a serene smile on his face as he alternatingly waved and bowed to the crowd. Viktor couldn't help noticing how picturesque this scene was, of Katsuki clutching a beautiful bouquet of flowers under the arena lights that made the glitters on his costume sparkle like a dream. As much as he disliked Katsuki, Viktor was not blind. The Japanese skater was probably the most attractive person he had ever met in his life. Not that he would ever tell a soul, bah!

 

Katsuki chose that moment to turn to him as if sensing his gaze. Viktor felt his face grow hot at being caught, but he chose not to embarrass himself further by looking away. He gave Katsuki a smirk, but instead of returning the gesture, the younger skater smiled brightly.

 

“Congratulations, Viktor,” Katsuki said, eyes all big and bright, face all open and sweet

 

_Dammit! What is that for?! Don't go giving me that! Aren't you even mad?! You should be mad!_

 

“Thank you,” he said stiffly although he kept the smile on his face. Cameras were trained on them, he could not afford to appear _anything_ close to unpleasant. “Same to you.”

 

Katsuki smiled wider. “Thank you, but you were so beautiful! Your performance was amazing!”

 

Viktor paused at that. Was this boy really telling him these things?

 

Katsuki had now turned back to the crowd. Was he just saying this because, like Viktor, he was aware of the cameras and the eyes watching them? Was he just faking it?

 

Viktor fought hard to keep the frown that wanted to etch itself on his face at bay.

 

Maybe that was it. Maybe he was just faking it. Maybe he was resenting Viktor deep inside him. Eventually, no matter how genuine the Japanese boy seemed to be, he would show his true colors. All of his competitors resented Viktor. Every single one of them. Time would tell. Katsuki would eventually be bolder in showing his true feelings after a series of losses. Hmph. And he would be losing a lot. A LOT.

 

He subtly took a deep breath and released an equally secretive sigh.

 

Yuri Katsuki, Viktor was sure, was no different from his other competitors.

 

 

 

 **[YUURI:** still **17 years old; VIKTOR:** still **21 years old]**

 

The new season had started and as usual, Yuri made his way to the rink for another day of training. Viktor was already in the locker room when he arrived, but like an S.O.P, they ignored each other. As much as Yuri hated this situation, there was really nothing he could do. Viktor was simply not willing to give him any chance to get close.

 

Yuri had just finished lacing his skates when he looked up and – thank god for his years of royal training!!! – only managed to squeak just a _little tiny itty_ bit as he came face to face with a young girl with auburn hair and deep blue eyes. She sat there with her chin resting on her palm and grinning creepily as she stared at Yuri straight in the eyes.

 

“Hello,” she said before her grin grew wider, making Yuri feel a tad bit more creeped out.

 

“H-Hi.”

 

“I'll be here from now on.” The girl extended a hand which Yuri shook awkwardly. “My name's Mila. Mila Babicheva.”

 

“Yuri Katsuki,” he answered dutifully.

 

“I know,” the girl, Mila, said as they broke the handshake. “You're quite popular.”

 

“Oh...” Yuri blinked.

 

“So... I heard you're not in good terms with Russia's star, Viktor Nikiforov,” she whispered conspiratorially.

 

Yuri blinked again, not really knowing how to address such a frank question.

 

“Uhmmm...”

 

Mila tilted her head, the smile temporarily falling before beaming up again.

 

“You're quite the quiet one, huh?”

 

“Uhmm...”

 

The girl stood up and patted him on the shoulder. “Well, nice to meet you Yuri. I hope we can be friends.”

 

And just like that, the little whirlwind zoomed herself to bother another unsuspecting skater by the name of Viktor Nikiforov who was as taken aback with the girl as Yuri was.

 

The Japanese skater turned his gaze to the ice. Welp, that was interesting.

 

 

 

“Hey, Yuri.”

 

Yuri looked up and put his water bottle down on top of the boards.

 

“Hello, Mila,” he smiled. The little girl, who was not exactly that short, scrunched her face. In the few weeks that followed after meeting her for the first time, Yuri found that he actually liked having her around. She was playful and loud. She most definitely made Yuri feel a lot more comfortable. She also didn't hesitate to bully Viktor one way or another.

 

“So, when are you beating that jerk?” she asked with a pout.

 

Yuri frowned. “Jerk?”

 

Mila rolled her eyes at him. “That Viktor is such a diva.”

 

Yuri smiled. “What did he do?”

 

Mila didn't answer right away, but after a moment, she admitted, “Nothing.”

 

“Then why are you calling him a jerk?” Yuri asked curiously.

 

Mila sighed. “I don't know. I just don't like how he struts around as if he owns this rink.”

 

“Maybe it's just a matter of perception,” Yuri answered as he wiped the sweat off his forehead with a towel.

 

“What do you mean?” Mila asked.

 

Yuri bit his lower lip and thought about it for a second. “Hmnn... You know, sometimes people act in a way that makes us think... Like, you know, in Viktor's case. To you, it may appear that he's like a 'diva', as you said, but maybe he didn't intend to. Maybe it just appeared that way, but in himself, he was only busy thinking about his routines.”

 

Mila's face scrunched up again before she shook her head.

 

“No. Don't think I didn't notice how he is treating you, Yuri.”

 

Oh, well... Damn.

 

“I-It's different...” he tried to argue, already feeling his face getting hotter by the second.

 

“And don't think I haven't heard stories from other skaters,” Mila continued.

 

Yuri smiled awkwardly at the girl as he scratched the back of his neck.

 

“Things between Viktor and I... It's complicated, but... Don't worry about it. He's normally nice to other skaters.”

 

“Why?” Mila asked.

 

“Why what?”

 

“Why are things complicated between the two of you?” Mila asked. “And why is he only nice to others but not you?”

 

This girl... How was Yuri supposed to answer that?! Ask him about politics, ask him about sciences, ask him about everything else, just not why Viktor hated Yuri, okay?! But of course, he couldn't say that to Mila. So Yuri simply shrugged and said,

 

“It's just how it is.”

 

Before Mila could open her mouth to ask more follow-up questions, another voice called out to him. Yuri stilled for a moment at the familiarity of the voice before slowly turning to where it came from.

 

Seeing Minako-sensei walking up to where he stood sent a chill down his spine. No, it wasn't because of the authoritative aura of the woman. He was used to that. Yuri had known her for so long that even if she appeared calm and emotionless to others, he could see right through her. So, no. What rendered him speechless, what sent his senses to red alert was the fact that they had an agreement that none of his staff were supposed to show up in the rink... unless... There was an emergency.

 

Emergencies were not good. Emergencies spelled bad news. And Minako-sensei, right now, was not calm at all.

 

Once Minako-sensei reached him, she turned to Mila with a little smile.

 

“I'm Mila,” the young girl said without prompt.

 

“And my name's Minako,” his governess said as she shook Mila's little hand. “Mila, can you tell Coach Feltsman that I need to discuss something important with him in his office with Yuri here?”

 

Mila frowned, her eyes looking over to him. Yuri gave her a smile and a nod, but he could feel his heart beating fast inside his chest. Mila gave a little smile to Minako before heading off to Yakov who was yelling at Viktor at the other side of the rink.

 

“M-Minako-sensei...”

 

When Minako-sensei turned her eyes to him, a small sad smile appeared on her lips.

 

“I'm sorry, Your Highness,” she said quietly. “But we have a situation.” Then, she said more loudly, “We will continue the discussion inside Coach Feltsman's office.”

 

At that very moment, Yuri knew that he might not step inside his homerink for a while.

 

When he gathered his things from his locker some time after the meeting with Yakov, he was numb.

 

And when he met Viktor's eyes as he made his way out of the rink, his heart shattered.

 

 

 

**[YUURI: 12 years old; VIKTOR: 16 years old] - JUNIOR WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP**

 

**SOFIA, BULGARIA**

“He's amazing, Yuuri-kun!” Yuuko gasped in unending awe, but Yuuri was no different. He knew he had the same lovestruck look Yuuko had on her face. After Viktor's skate, there was no doubt that he was taking home gold yet again. “Yuuri-kun! If I'm not mistaken, I think he had just set the record! I think his score is the highest in history!”

 

“You think so?” Yuuri beamed, all giddy from watching his favorite skater live for the first time.

 

Being here for the competition was no easy feat to pull. It took Yuuri a good five months to convince (pester) not just his family but also the Imperial Household Agency to loosen up a bit and allow him to fly to Bulgaria incognito. As of the moment, only a selected few in the Bulgarian government knew of his presence here. Both Japanese and Bulgarian undercover agents were scattered all over the arena to keep watch over him. Yuuri thought it was too much, but whatever.

 

“I'm so happy to watch him live!” Yuuko squealed. “Thank you so much, Yo – Yuuri!”

 

“Uhn!” Yuuri grinned at his friend before returning his gaze to his beloved skater. However, their awe changed to confusion, and then to envy when Viktor threw a rose to a boy with blonde hair.

 

“Woah! He's so lucky!” Yuuko groaned. “Who's that?”

 

Yuuri couldn't help the pout that made its way to his face. He didn't know who the boy was and he didn't know why he felt this way, but he was not liking the fact that Viktor was giving the other boy a flower.

 

 

 

It was a little while later when the awarding was done and everyone was leaving the arena that Yuuri found himself walking the corridors of the backstages by himself carrying a special board just for Viktor's autograph. He managed to give his guards the slip by making the unsuspecting Yuuko his bait. He wanted to meet Viktor, and the guards had too much protocol to follow, making Yuuri worry that the Russian skater would have been gone before they were all ready.

 

Now, here he was. He had a nagging feeling that this might not be a good idea. Actually, did he even know where the lockers were? No, he didn't, but just how large could a building be, right? The Imperial Residence was much much bigger than the arena. He was old enough to find his way.

 

Yuuri found himself at the end of the hall with two directions to choose from. Left or right? Hmnnn... Okay... Maybe he was... in trouble? He scrunched his face and decided to go right anyway, but before he could actually take a step, loud echoing footsteps and giggles preceded a boy with dark hair running towards Yuuri while waving what appeared to be an article of clothing high over his head.

 

The boy was laughing and yelling something as he ran the other way. Hearing another set of footsteps, Yuuri turned to look and almost had his breath taken away to see none other than Viktor Nikiforov – a shirtless Viktor Nikiforov – running after the other boy down the hallway.

 

It was sudden. He didn't understand what was happening. It was like in movies, complete with high definition resolution and slow motion. Something brought Yuuri's gaze down from the Russian skater's beautiful face to the center of his chest where lines and figures were stamped in black on his pale skin. Yuuri couldn't take his eyes off it, and even as Viktor finally ran pass without noticing him, his mind could only see that mark in his mind.

 

Yuuri gasped at the sudden attack of pain on his own chest. It was hot; the patch of skin right on the same spot where he saw Viktor's mark was stinging and burning. The intense vibration and small sharp pricks were more than enough to elicit a cry from his throat. Yuuri stumbled, his back hitting the wall with a thud. His heart was beating so fast, it was hard for him to even breathe. He clutched at the fabric covering the accursed patch of skin not really understanding what was happening.

 

Yuuko. Guards.

 

He needed help. Was he dying? What... Why was he hurting so much?!

 

Yuuri mustered all of his strength just to push off the wall. With great effort, he made his way haltingly down the same hallway he walked through earlier. The burning, instead of abating, was rapidly spreading throughout his body. His breathing became even more labored and his vision was now starting to swim and dim.

 

“Yuuri?”

 

It was muffled, but Yuuri heard his name. There was a figure not far from him. He tried harder to walk faster but even before he could even reach half the distance towards the figure, Yuuri's world tilted. If he fell, he didn't know anymore, because if he did, everything had already gone quiet and dark for the young prince.

 

 

 

=========================================================

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

As usual for this story, the chapter is short. I swear I'm not purposely making cliffhangers here or anything. I am simply following a timeline and a pattern. I apologize for the inconvenience.

I'm honestly not happy with how I wrote this chapter, but... I guess I can forgive myself for now.

The update for “TOPIC: KATSUKI YUURI” will be available in a few days, probably before the weekend. Please watch out for it!

Thank you for reading!

 


	4. Chapter 4

 

 

**[YUURI: 12 years old; VIKTOR: 16 years old]**

 

“Your highness, please come out!” Another set of knocks before, “Please, Your Highness! Everyone is worried about you!”

 

With the curtains drawn closed and light fixtures extinguished, Yuuri stared blankly at the ceiling above him as he laid on his bed. He didn't know what time it was. He didn't know what day it was, too. Too many things were raging in his mind, but nothing specific truly louder than anything else, a hodgepodge of thoughts and emotions, sentiments and memories that centered his past, present, and the one he was worried the most – the future.

 

He was tired, but not enough to fall into slumber.

 

 _Consummation_ as they called it. When a soulmark was finally completed, they called it _consummation –_ or at least that's what the Imperial Household head doctor said.

 

After a few more knocks and calls, the door went quiet. Yuuri turned to look at the direction of the door and, with what little light that came in from the folds and creases of the curtains, was satisfied to see that the heavy dresser pushed against it was still in place.

 

He looked up at the ceiling again, sighed, and eventually closed his eyes.

 

The unexpected turn of events in Sofia changed a lot of things for him, not just as a prince but also as an individual.

 

Yuuri had been unconscious for two days, they told him. They had to fly him out of Belgium using his family's unmarked private jet, apparently. When he woke up, he was back in Japan. All witnesses and in-the-knows, including Belgian and Japanese government officials alike, were pressured to sign a pretty comprehensive and a rather threatening proprietary information agreement.

 

 _All because Prince Yuuri of the Chrysanthemum Throne found his soulmate in a sports arena and decided to faint in a foreign country_ , Yuuri thought bitterly with a huff. He stilled before touching his chest gently.

 

The completion and settling of the mark did a number on his young body. Once he regained consciousness, Yuuri could barely stand up from his own bed. The ache in his muscles and the burn on his skin were a lot to handle and enough for a child like him to be in delirium. He had been in so much pain that his mother cried and cried by his bedside. Everyone had freaked out thinking that he was dying. Thankfully, the head doctor had enough knowledge to know that that was not the case. His sister, Mari-oneesama, as well said it was just part of the process and that it wouldn't kill him. Their mother had chastised her for that, talking about how young Yuuri was and his body might not be able to endure it, but Mari was adamant that it was okay. And she was right. On the fourth day, everything had suddenly stopped. It was like nothing happened in the first place.

 

Still, his parents had been too worried. The Imperial Household Agency had been too worried. The Imperial Residential Staff had been too worried. It had become too much for him, so he kicked them all out from his room and barricaded himself in. Today... Well, he didn't know how many days it had been, but they continued to bang on his door and plead to be let in, but Yuuri chose to ignore them as always. Of course, they didn't need to know that Yuuko-san and his sister had been regularly sneaking in food and drinks. So, maybe it was the fourth day of his self-imposed isolation. Didn't really matter. He had things to think about and he needed the peace and quiet.

 

Yuuri sighed again and rolled on his side.

 

Who would have thought that it would be Viktor Nikiforov? Yuuri certainly didn't. This was the main reason why he shut everyone out. The Imperial Household was demanding to know who his soulmate was so they could “ _work on extracting that person from wherever that person was_ ” so that they could “ _bring that person to Japan_ ” in order to “ _incorporate that person into the imperial family_ ”, as they kept on harping on and on and _on_.

 

Yuuri fought valiantly to keep the identity of his soulmate to himself. He had to, at least for now.

 

Being part of the royal family was not a joke. It was not something one could shake off after getting tired of it.

 

Yuuri remembered that one time he was allowed to play in a public playground when he was nine. There was this boy a year or two older than him who he had befriended. They had gotten along so well that Yuuri insisted to go back to the playground again the next day. They played, they laughed, they chased each other around... And then, Yuuri said the biggest mistake of his young life:

 

“ _Let's be friends!_ ”

 

The next day, Yuuri had come down to the family room with the boy sitting on the couch crying his lungs out.

 

“ _This is your fault!_ ” the boy had screamed at him. “ _They took me away!_ ”

 

Yuuri couldn't understand why they had to take the boy away from his mother. He had only wanted to be friends with him. Yuuri had been taken away from his parents once before, too. He and Mari had been taken away by some scary people before, and Yuuri didn't like it. He had missed his parents so much, he wouldn't stop crying. Even Mari, tough as she was, had also cried.

 

Apparently, the Imperial Household had heard about Yuuri's new playmate and how Yuuri wanted him to be his friend...

 

Yuuri sighed as he thought back to that particular memory. He had screamed at the staff to return the boy to his parents. He never went back to the playground after that.

 

Now, here he was. What if he told them who his soulmate was? Would they take him away from his parents, too? Would they make him stop skating? Yuuri couldn't let them do that. He had seen how Viktor loved the sport. He had seen how talented Viktor was. He could still win more. He could still compete more. He could still show the world more. Viktor was born to be on the ice, not to be stuck here within the walls of the Imperial Palace. Yuuri didn't want Viktor to be imprisoned in a life where rules and customs dictated who he should be. Viktor was a skater. Viktor was his own person. Viktor was... Yuuri's soulmate...

 

And that's where the problem was, wasn't it?

 

 

 

Yuuri braced himself and entered the dining room where his family was currently sat with a mixed look of surprise and joy on their faces.

 

“Yuuri, I'm so happy that you joined us here tonight!”

 

Yuuri turned to meet the sparkling brown eyes of Empress Hiroko of Japan, his mother. He smiled shyly with a nod and turned his gaze to the man sitting beside her at the head of the long rectangular table, Emperor Toshiya, his father.

 

The man smiled tenderly at him, obviously pleased that his normally withdrawn (and now in the fast road of becoming a recluse) son had decided to finally join them for dinner.

 

“I'm glad to see you tonight, son,” his father greeted.

 

It took Yuuri more than a month to come up with a gameplan. It was not an easy plan. It probably wouldn't be approved, but he had to try.

 

No. He had to make it work – by hook or by crook.

 

So he moved forward and sat down on his designated chair beside his sister opposite their mother.

 

“I'm also happy to be here...” Yuuri answered timidly. “I – I'm sorry if... if I haven't been joining you.”

 

“You should be,” a voice beside him drawled. He turned to see Mari-oneesama smirking at him. “I was wondering when I'd be seeing you here.”

 

“Mari!” Hiroko admonished, but Mari just grinned. Toshiya shook his head in fond exasperation. “Okay, kids, eat your dinner. Come on.”

 

“I'm not a kid anymore,” Mari snapped. “I'm 19!”

 

Yuuri's gaze fell on his plate. He didn't have the appetite. In all honesty, he was so nervous, he could hear his heart pound in his ears. But he couldn't change his mind. He must not back down. He had made up his mind and he must tell them as soon as possible.

 

“Still a child, my dear,” Toshiya retorted, oblivious to Yuuri's internal conflict. “Still under 20.”

 

He breathed in deeply and exhaled slowly. He could tell them. They would understand. They were his family after all. They had never judged him.

 

He raised his head and stared straight as his father.

 

“While we eat,” Yuuri started, fighting the urge to bolt from the table. “Father, could you tell everyone to leave us?”

 

He was referring to all the staff members standing by the walls seeing to it that orders and needs from the imperial family were seen to immediately.

 

His father frowned at his words. His mother looked at him with concerned confusion. His sister raised an eyebrow at him.

 

“Why do they have to leave, Yuuri?” his father asked.

 

“I have something I want to discuss with you... as a family... for now,” Yuuri reasoned out.

 

Silence greeted his words.

 

Not being able to endure the tensed atmosphere, Yuuri looked down on his plate to pretend he was interested with the dish he didn't even know the name. It seemed like the chefs were into some weird cuisines again. Vaguely, he wondered where the head chef went for his vacation last time.

 

“Yuuri,” he heard his mother say softly. “Does this have something to do with what happened in Sofia last month?”

 

Yuuri blinked. Yeah, well...

 

A flash of silver hair...

 

Bright blue eyes soft against the arena lights...

 

A searing paralyzing pain...

 

Labored breathing he didn't realize last time was his...

 

He nodded, still not looking up. The silence stretched a little bit more before he heard his father say,

 

“We're alone now, son.”

 

Yuuri raised his eyes once again. The staff was nowhere in sight. He looked his father straight in the eyes and cleared his throat before forcing himself to swallow the trepidation that was eating him up inside.

 

“I...”

 

“What is it, Yuuri?” his mother asked in her usual soothing tone.

 

He took a deep breath once more and exhaled slowly.

 

“I want to be a figure skater.”

 

Silence.

 

More silence.

 

His parents blinked, their faces blank. Both of his sister's eyebrows were now almost by her hairline.

 

“E-Excuse me, my son,” his mother's voice was now slightly shaking and the gentle smile she almost always had was now strained. “D-Did you just say what I thought you said?”

 

“I want to be a figure skater,” Yuuri repeated, now more determined.

 

Mari hummed. His father's head was tilted to the side, looking at his son as if he was something he had never seen in his whole life.

 

“Yuuri...” Hiroko started but couldn't exactly find the words to express whatever she was thinking.

 

“A figure skater?” Toshiya asked flatly.

 

“A figure skater, yes,” Yuuri answered as he nodded.

 

Mari snorted. “You do remember that you're a prince, right?”

 

“I do,” Yuuri grumbled with a frown.

 

“An heir?” his sister followed up.

 

“Yes,” he said.

 

He heard his father sigh heavily.

 

“Mind telling us just _why_ you want to be a figure skater?” Toshiya asked, his tone light but still enough to scare Yuuri. But he couldn't back down. They needed to know. They needed to understand. They, of all people, would understand. Must understand.

 

“Father, I... I have found my soulmate.”

 

There was a pause in the air before his mom's hand slammed down on the table, shocking all of them.

 

“YOU HAVE?!” Hiroko beamed before realizing what she did. Blushing and throwing a bashful smile to her chuckling husband, she settled herself down on her seat and focused on her son again.

 

Yuuri managed to stop himself from rolling his eyes at her.

 

“Mother, I think that's hardly news to you.”

 

The Empress shrugged, “I want to hear it straight from you, my son. It's not everyday your child tells you they've found their soulmate. I want that parental experience. So, tell us, who is your soulmate?”

 

“Shouldn't you be asking how that's related to his _I-want-be-a-figure-skater_ speech?” Mari asked, amused eyes trained on the Empress.

 

“Oh, shush, Mari,” Hiroko frowned at her daughter before turning back to her son again. “Yuuri, tell mommy! I want to meet my future son-in-law!”

 

“Mother, Yuuri is only 13,” Mari teased.

 

“ _Mari!_ ” Hiroko whined.

 

“Okay, okay, girls, let's take it easy,” Toshiya chuckled. “Okay, back to Yuuri, please?” Both women nodded. “Okay. Yuuri, can you please explain?”

 

He nodded. “I found him in the arena last week and... That's why... I... My soulmate is a competitive skater.”

 

“Oh, lovely!” Hiroko clapped happily. “Is he a Japanese skater?”

 

Yuuri shook his head. “No. He's representing another country...”

 

“Oh? Which country?” his father asked nonchalantly.

 

“Russia, father.”

 

His family fell into silence again. He knew what they were thinking. He knew they were reviewing the imperial family's lineage in their minds even though they already knew that no, they never had a soulmate pairing between a Japanese and a westerner. They've had a Chinese. They've had a Korean. Heck, they even had a Bhutanese somewhere up there in the family tree. But Russian?

 

Not that it really mattered. The law dictated that a ruler could only marry his/her soulmate. Without a soulmate, one was not allowed to take the throne.

 

“He... doesn't happen to be Viktor Nikiforov, right?” Mari asked, almost too carefully.

 

Yuuri looked at her straight in the eyes and nodded. “He is my soulmate.”

 

Mari whistled, surprise evident in her eyes.

 

“W-Well then,” his father began hesitantly. “I guess we can contact him and... and introduce you two to each other.”

 

“No.”

 

Toshiya stared at his son in shock. “No?”

 

Yuuri nodded grimly. “Father, you know how life is as a royal. If... If I make my claim now, he will no longer be able to skate. I can't do that to him. Please understand.”

 

Nobody was eating; the food on the plates untouched, cold, and forgotten. The tension was thick once again. It was his mother who decided to break the silence.

 

“Yuuri, son... Is this why you want to become a figure skater?”

 

He nodded. “I can't tell him yet, but I want to be with him. I want to get to know him. I... I want to skate with him and wait until... until he retires and...”

 

“Yuuri, you are choosing a difficult path,” his father stated sadly.

 

Yuuri smiled at his father. “I know, but if I can't even take care of my soulmate, then how can I expect to be a good alternative ruler to Japan?”

 

“Alternative ruler?” Mari asked, an eyebrow raised yet again.

 

“You're the one next in line, Mari-oneesama,” he reminded her. To his surprise, she suddenly looked uncomfortable. “Mari-nee, is something wrong?”

 

Mari looked at him gravely and then, her eyes narrowed in steely determination. She breathed in heavily and turned to their parents with a tensed smirk on her face.

 

“Since we are having a family discussion about soulmates and we now mention about rulership,” Mari paused before continuing, “I just want you to know that I refuse to become the Crown Princess.”

 

The empress gasped. The emperor's jaw fell to the floor. Heck, even Yuuri was gawking at his sister, all thoughts about figure skating suddenly forgotten.

 

“Mari! What are you saying?!” Toshiya demanded.

 

Mari smiled sadly. “Let me rephrase that, father. I _can't_ become the Crown Princess.”

 

“W-What? What do you mean?”

 

His sister sighed and leaned back against the backrest of her chair. For a full minute, she didn't say anything and opted to stare at the ceiling instead. Just when Yuuri thought his father was going to have a heart attack, Mari finally said,

 

“My soulmate has been declared dead.”

 

They all sat straighter, eyes as wide as saucers glued to the princess.

 

They had known. His family and the Household knew that Mari had found her soulmate, but like Yuuri, she kept her mouth shut. She never told them who her soulmate was. The Household had tried so hard, but the more they asked, the angrier Mari got. They only stopped badgering her when she ran away for a few weeks.

 

“Mari-nee?”

 

“Yuuri... Maybe you couldn't remember, but you've met my soulmate.”

 

Yuuri's eyebrows shot up before they came down for a frown. The eyes that were now staring at him were pleading, grieving, reminding...

 

And Yuuri suddenly remembered a boy.

 

A boy covered in bruises and wore scruffy clothes.

 

A boy with a gentle smile even when there was dried blood at the corner of his lips.

 

A thin, shabby-looking boy with dull eyes that seemed to have seen so many things a teenager never should.

 

A boy who helped them escape in the protective embrace of darkness, telling them to “ _Run! Run as fast as you can! Don't look back!_ ”

 

And then, Yuuri remembered.

 

He remembered watching from under the bushes with his sister as the big scary men grabbed him and dragged him by his clothes into a small dilapidated shack covered in moss and drying leaves. It had been dark, but Yuuri remembered seeing what he thought were more bruises on his chest.

 

Could it be...

 

She had been very sick as they tried their hardest to run as quickly and as quietly as they could. Yuuri didn't remember much detail from that time, he was only seven after all, but he remembered how labored Mari's breathing had been. He remembered how she had tried to swallow down whimpers and sobs, branches scratching her beautiful face, only to turn to him every minute to give him a soft, reassuring smile and a pat on the head.

 

And finally, finally, when they broke through the edge of the forest, they came upon a humble house with a mother and her children playing in the garden. He remembered how Mari had stayed strong, even when tears were falling from her eyes, even when her entire body was convulsing, to call out to the woman for help. It only had been after the woman looked at them, only when her eyes were finally focused on them, that his sister allowed herself to finally crumple down to the ground.

 

Everything from then had been a blur to Yuuri. He couldn't remember much, but he could definitely remember being asked his name; “ _Yuuri, Son of the Chrysanthemum_ ”, he had innocently told the husband of the woman who gasped before running out of the room.

 

Mari had been laying on the wooden floors of the small house, gasping and burning with fever. He remembered watching worriedly as she laid motionless, save for the ragged breathing and the whimpers that sometimes escaped her pale trembling lips.

 

And then, there were men in dark suits rushing in, bearing the insignia of his family on the lapels of their jackets. It hadn't taken long before he saw a familiar – but at that time, gaunt and pale – face. That was the first and only time he had ever seen his father cry so hard his whole body shook from the intensity of it. He had gathered Yuuri's little body in his arms, murmuring words he could not understand and carrying him as he walked to Mari. The tears that had slid down from his father's eyes, Yuuri remembered, sparkled on its way to Mari's face as his father kissed her forehead.

 

And Mari, as if sensing the safety that their father cloaked them with, opened her eyes and cried out the name of their savior.

 

“Yuta-nii...” Yuuri whispered.

 

“Yuta?” his father asked, confused.

 

“Yuta,” Mari nodded. “He was that boy with us when we were kidnapped, father. He was the one who helped us escape.”

 

Yuuri heard a loud gasp and turned just in time to see tears falling from his mother's eyes. Her brown eyes wide with horror and grief clouding the normally sparkly life within its depths.

 

“They... They looked for him for more than a year,” Hiroko whispered. “They looked for him but could never find him. He was... He was declared dead in the end.”

 

Mari smirked, but her eyes were twin waterfalls of tears. “I don't mind not becoming a Crown Princess... To be honest, I don't want it. What saddens me is the fact that I... I will forever be alone...”

 

For the first time in his life, Yuuri wondered just how much of his memories actually had more weight to them than he initially thought. This was the secret that Mari had buried deep inside her soul, the secret that she fought tooth and nail to keep safe from anyone who so much as mentioned it, the very secret that had been torturing his sister for so many years.

 

Mari no longer had a soulmate. She was alone. And Yuuri... Yuuri had one.

 

It was then that he realized, it was then that he understood, it was then that he knew that he wasn't making the wrong decision.

 

Viktor Nikiforov must stay on the ice.

 

 

 

**[YUURI: 18 years old; VIKTOR: 22 years old]**

 

 

“ _ **ALL CLEAR FOR NIKIFOROV AS KATSUKI PULLS OUT FROM THE GPF SERIES”**_

 

“ _ **IS KATSUKI RETIRING?”**_

 

“ _ **KATSUKI LEAVES SKATING, JSF STATES PERSONAL ISSUES”**_

 

 

Yuuri turned his gaze to the small ball of brown fluff beside him that had just whined for attention. He smiled and bent down to kiss Vicchan on his small nose. The adorable ball's tail wagged as he tried to kiss Yuuri back with licks.

 

He picked Vicchan up and placed him on his chest where he curled up for a nap. Yuuri returned his attention to his phone screen and scrolled down.

 

 

“ _ **IS JAPAN'S NATIONAL SECURITY UNDER THREAT?”**_

 

“ _ **PALACE REMAINS QUIET”**_

 

“ _ **TIGHTENED SECURITY IN JAPAN, ANOTHER LOCK DOWN POSSIBLE?”**_

 

“ _ **1999 CRACKDOWN, SAME GROUP TODAY?”**_

 

“ _ **PALACE CONFIRMS SAFETY OF IMPERIAL FAMILY”**_

 

 

Yuuri put his phone down in favor of scratching Vicchan's fluffy head as the little dog snoozed on his chest. He flinched as loud knocks echoed through his room. Before he could even speak or sit up, the door opened with a bang and in came a boy with dark hair, tanned skin, and an eternal grin on his face.

 

“Yuuri!!!” Phichit Chulanont yelled out. Yuuri rolled his eyes before carefully moving a wide-awake Vicchan from his chest down on the bed.

 

“Phichit, why can't you walk in like a normal person?” he asked as he sat up to lean against the headboard of his bed. He eyed the paper bags swinging maliciously from the boy's arms.

 

Phichit was a Thailand-borne boy who, by the order of the Emperor (that was, as requested by Yuuri), was now a naturalized Japanese. He sauntered over and dropped the paper bags on Yuuri's bed. Vicchan immediately stood up and sniffed the bags curiously.

 

“Like, since when was I even normal, my dear beloved prince?” he asked teasingly as he plopped down next to Yuuri.

 

“Stop calling me that,” he grumbled as he ran a hand through his hair. “What are you doing here anyway?”

 

“Well, I heard that your yummy princely ass has been dragged back to Japan, so naturally, I came for a viewing,” Phichit said as he took out a hamster from the pocket of his varsity jacket.

 

Yuuri rolled his eyes as he crossed his arms over his chest. “You're supposed to be training.”

 

Phichit stopped kissing his hamster and turned to him with a glint in his eyes.

 

“Oh, hey, hey. Someone's excited to have me as his bodyguard.”

 

“When will you graduate from training anyway?”

 

“In a few months,” Phichit said with a shrug as he took out another hamster from the same pocket and kissed it, too. “The next time you return to Russia, I will be able to go with you. Bitch, I'm excited to compete!”

 

Yuuri leveled his friend with sharp look. “I don't even know if I will be able to go back.”

 

His friend, future personal aide and undercover bodyguard, gave him a soft smile.

 

“Chin up, Your Highness! I'm positive they will let you go back. I mean, like everyone here, from the Imperial Household Agency to the Emperor, is basically wrapped around your little finger. They'll do everything to make you happy, so cheer up.”

 

“Are you kidding me?” Yuuri said, scrunching up his face. “They literally dragged me back here all the way from Russia. What 'wrapped around your little finger' are you even talking about?”

 

It was now Phichit's turn to roll his eyes at him. “Like duh? Of course, they will. If there's one safe place for you in the world, it would be inside the Imperial Palace.”

 

“I think being abroad would be a lot safer,” Yuuri mumbled.

 

“Maybe, unless they know who you are,” Phichit said. “You're not exactly hiding.”

 

“The one in public is Katsuki Yuri, a skater. Not me.”

 

“And who knows when they will make the connection?” Phichit shrugged before looking the prince in the eye. “Yuuri, you pretty much look like your parents and ancestors. The resemblance is just uncanny. I mean, have you seen Mari? She's basically your female version! And now, here we are at present. Your pop's enemies are gathering forces and waiting for the right time to seize power. It's better to solve the issue first, right?”

 

Yuuri sighed and sank down his bed. As he laid there staring at the ceiling, thoughts of his bratty soulmate assaulted him.

 

'Til the last time he saw him, Viktor had remained hostile towards him. Just some years ago, he had come up with the plan of competing just so he could stand beside his soulmate. He had done just that, hadn't he? Yet... It wasn't really enough for him. Now... Could he even go back? For all he knew, that might have been the last time he would see his soulmate. For now, only his family knew about Viktor. The Imperial Household had tried to weedle the information out of him. Oh boy, did they try, but with the stubbornness of a bull, Yuuri kept his mouth shut. The only time that he did open his mouth was to snap at them about how they had handled his friendship with that boy from when he was young.

 

Now, with this recent development in his family's situation... Once they found out about Viktor, even Yuuri's argument would not hold water.

 

But what if he couldn't go back anymore? What if... What if Viktor found someone else to be with?

 

“It's going to be okay, Yuuri,” Phichit said quietly. “Just have faith.”

 

Yuuri snorted. “Yeah, right.”

 

“If worse comes to worst, then we'll just have to kidnap your soulmate – whoever he is.”

 

And that's exactly why he never told Phichit who his soulmate was.

 

 

 

=========================================================

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

1.Again, for updates, follow me at <https://twitter.com/FloaterEli>

2\. “ _Yuuri, Son of the Chrysanthemum_ ”: I just made this up 'coz I have no idea how the naming works in the Japanese imperial family. Also, for the love of god, I can't possibly make a family tree. I don't even know my own family tree. XD

3\. TKY Update: Not yet soon. I'm working on it though.

4\. I'm pretty sure you have many questions, but please do wait for the coming chapters. You will eventually understand the hows and whys :) Yes, including the question of how Yuuri could compete when he is a prince.

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

 

**[YUURI: 18 years old; VIKTOR: 22 years old]**

 

Viktor Nikiforov, wide as the smile on his lips might be as he waved to the crowd, was feeling strangely numb inside. With his good pal, Christophe Giacometti, standing on his right and Cao Bin on his left, Viktor wondered just why he felt empty with his win this year.

 

The cheers of the crowd paled in comparison to the roar that thundered through the arena at last year's GPF.

 

He raised the cold metal to his lips for a kiss, but in his mind, Viktor questioned why he only realized now how cold the thing was. He gripped it tightly before letting go. It fell to his chest heavily... and lifelessly. Of course, it was lifeless. It was just an object. Why was it important again?

 

Viktor looked at the crowd once more, smile still in place. Who was he kidding? He knew why he was feeling like this. He knew why the crowd was reacting like this. It was because of the noticeable absence of one particular skater from Japan – Yuri Katsuki.

 

Since the announcement of Katsuki's pull-out from the competition, there had been this strange hush, this weird void in the skating community. Viktor himself could not deny that he too felt... oddly lacking in motivation. While Chris and Cao were amazing skaters, the large gap in their scores was like a gaping hole of a missed challenge that ate on Viktor through the season. In other words, he didn't feel the challenge. He felt bored – a thought that he'd rather keep to himself as not to offend anyone. 'Coz, you know, truth was rude.

 

The gold that hung on his chest felt so cold and worthless. The bouquet they had given him was colorless. This was a win that had no glory. Viktor just wanted to go back to Makkachin.

 

His home rink back in St. Petersburg was no different from the polite claps of the audience today. The sound was there, but not enough to actually bring any sort of energy, just a buzz that surrounded him. Yakov had been strangely quieter ever since Katsuki left. Mila, that little brat, had been vocal in blaming Viktor, that his treatment to Katsuki was the reason why he left. While he didn't want to acknowledge the truth behind her words, at the back of his mind, Viktor did wonder if he indeed was the reason why Katsuki left. In spite of sharing the rink and coach for two years, he and Katsuki had never had any real interaction. Stilted greetings when forced, cold shoulders when not... It was not even for the lack of trying on Katsuki's part. It had been all because of Viktor.

 

Because he had been such a salty brat.

 

Now he had to wonder if Katsuki was even coming back. _Taking a break_ was, after all, just another way to say _retire_. Katsuki had no injury when he left. In fact, he never really gave any reason. _Personal reasons_ could mean a lot, could mean so much more, could mean that he was tired of the ice... or probably of Viktor. He wished Katsuki was not that shallow. He wished that he, Viktor, had not been so shallow.

 

“ _Sooner or later, success will bore you.”_

 

He wished Yakov was wrong.

 

_Dark embers normally blazing with life cooling and dulling fast right before his eyes..._

 

And most definitely, he wished he was wrong, that he had just imagined it, that he had not seen that shattered look in Katsuki's face the last time Viktor had seen him.

 

He wished he could turn back time.

 

 

 

**[YUURI: 13 years old; VIKTOR: 17 years old]**

 

 

_**THE 13-YEAR-OLD NATIONAL JUNIOR CHAMPION OF JAPAN** _

 

 

“I'm sorry, Katsuki-kun,” a JSF official said gently. Yuri looked up, not really expecting anything. “Furukawa-san is the one going to Worlds this season...”

 

_Because you're still new._

 

_Because you still had a lot to prove._

 

_Because you're too young._

 

_Because they didn't know you._

 

_Because they favored an older skater._

 

_Because they didn't trust you._

 

Those were the reasons the federation was too polite to say, but Yuri was keen-minded and he understood. So he nodded with a little smile and pretended that he was okay with it.

 

Next season. Next season he would show them what they're missing.

 

 

_**JAPAN TAKES BRONZE AT JGP POLAND** _

 

 

Yuri smiled even as he stopped himself from recoiling against the flashes and the intrusive questions of the press. Winning the Junior Grand Prix Final at 14 seemed to be a big deal for them, especially for the Japanese media. Yuri couldn't understand it, but if it made them happy then, he could at least smile and pretend that he was not uncomfortable with the attention. Personally, he thought that it shouldn't matter. It was just the Junior. Nobody paid attention to the Junior category... But then again, Yuuri himself was smitten with Viktor while he was still a Junior skater himself so...

 

As he answered the questions as best as he could, Yuri couldn't help but wonder how different this thing was with the media. As a skater, the reporters stood very close to him. There was no concept of space and they aimed their microphones at his face regardless if there was a chance that they could actually hit him. It was... neither something Yuri expected nor appreciated.

 

As a prince, or at least as far as he remembered, the media had kept a respectable distance. There had been no pushing and no shouting. There had been clamor, but not a chaotic one. Should there be any sign of unwanted persistence, the imperial guards had been there to keep the reporters at bay.

 

They always had this calm and reverence to them that he had never truly grasped. His toddler self had been quite fascinated as he watched how loved his parents were by their people. Of course now, he understood a little bit. Or at least, he understood where the reverence was coming from. For Yuuri, however, the idea of his family having had descended from the gods was pure myth. How could people even believe such thing? If he was a descendant of the gods then, he would have powers, right?

 

Anyway, it had been a while since he last came face to face with the media as a prince, but the difference from his current situation to the past was quite unnerving. The worst part of it was, he didn't really know which one he preferred; the one of reverence or the one that was utter chaos. Both were difficult for him to accept. To his naivete, when he decided to compete, he had not really anticipated the idea that the media might just be interested to get a word out of him. Was there no Japanese skater winning medals for the country? He never really thought about it.

 

 

_**EMERGING FORCE KATSUKI WINS SILVER AT JGP ESTONIA** _

 

 

Yuuri stared in shock at the little bundle of brown fluff sitting shyly in front of him.

 

“Aren't you happy?” Mari asked tonelessly as she tapped a foot on the floor impatiently. “You've been talking about that Russian skater's dog for a while now. I actually expected you'd be crying your eyes out once you saw this... this dog here. Is this actually a dog? It's too small and defenseless to be a dog, but whatever.”

 

“I-It's so small!” Yuuri gasped, a hand eventually covering his own mouth to stop any attempts at squealing. The puppy continued to sit still, staring at the floor as if expecting to be rejected and thrown out of the palace.

 

“What? You want an exact replica of that standard poodle? 'Coz if you want, I can just return this and get another one,” Mari snarled as if she was offended by her own words.

 

“No!” Yuuri cried out, making the puppy jump. Cooing, Yuuri gently picked it up and peered between its hind legs. “It's a he! Oh, he's shaking...”

 

“Just pet him gently, son,” his father said with a smile. “He's in a new environment. It can't be helped that he's nervous.”

 

Yuuri nodded and did what his father said. The puppy began to relax soon enough to lick Yuuri on the chin. He gasped once again at the sensation. They never had a pet here in the castle. They had guard dogs, but Yuuri was advised against playing with them. The first time Yuuri had seen them and was not allowed to pet them had resulted to an epic temper tantrum that nobody in the palace ever wanted to remember. Since then, the dogs had been kept away from him. They probably believed that if the dogs were out of sight, they were also out of mind. Yuuri had always thought it as his biggest pain in life... But now... Now, he had his own dog! One he was allowed to play with!

 

“Thank you so much!” Yuuri gushed, tears falling from his eyes both from the increasingly aggressive show of affection from the poodle and the gratefulness he felt towards his family. He was really a lucky boy.

 

“Now, Yuuri, remember that he is your dog,” his mother said kindly. “You have to be responsible.”

 

Yuuri nodded vigorously. In his mind, he was already imagining the walks he would be taking with the puppy and the games they would be playing. Cleaning up after him would be hard, but Yuuri would get used to it. He had a dog now!

 

“What will you name him anyway?” Mari asked.

 

Yuuri tilted his head as he stared at the puppy that was busy nibbling on his thumb. He looked so much like Viktor's standard poodle Makkachin. Yet, he's so small in comparison. The pooch looked up to meet his gaze and in that very moment, like the puppy himself whispered it in his head, a name came to him.

 

Yuuri smiled widely.

 

“Vicchan.”

 

 

**[YUURI: 14 years old; VIKTOR: 18 years old]**

 

 

_**JAPAN'S FUTURE LOOKS PROMISING AS KATSUKI TAKES HOME GOLD AT JGPF** _

 

_**MEET JAPAN'S NEW ICE DEMON** _

 

 

“This won't work,” Yuuri muttered to himself as he stared down his skate shoes thoughtfully. Not really in the mood to try out a sequence he had been planning on using, he decided to go for a little aimless glide across the ice. Sometimes, just gliding on ice helped him clear his mind, and a clear mind often led him to a much better thought process. A better thought process oftentimes led to better ideas for his routines.

 

He was currently in Thailand. His parents thought it was a good idea to bring him with them in order to familiarize himself with Thailand's culture. They had promised to rent out an ice rink so he could skate whenever he wanted during their stay, and Yuuri was precisely taking advantage of that now. He really couldn't understand why they had to bring him along. It wasn't like Yuuri could be seen with his parents in public. He was only ever introduced to the monarch of Thailand behind closed doors. Even the prime minister was not allowed to meet him. So, really. Why was he even here?

 

It wasn't that he disliked Thailand. It was nice here. The food was awesome – spicy but awesome. Yuuri could get used to it. The people were nice enough and there were a lot to see! But... He really had no reason to be here. The Household only allowed him to step out of the hotel suite to go to the rink with his bodyguards in tow or when his family would have dinner with Thailand's king. Other than that, he had to stay in the suite. He wasn't even allowed to go to the balcony!

 

Yuuri sighed heavily. He pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind and refocused on his task at hand. There were problems in his programs that he really wanted fixing. Minako-sensei should have accompanied him here in Thailand. She would have been a big help.

 

Yuuri sighed heavily again. To curb the growing annoyance and restlessness he was feeling, he pushed himself to go faster and faster to gain momentum and jumped a triple axel. As he landed, he heard a loud gasp from somewhere. He skidded to a stop and looked around. He couldn't see anyone. Did he just imagine it? Maybe it was just the sound of the ice... although he was sure that he knew what the ice sounded like...

 

He continued on. This time he decided to try out his routine again. He really should thank Minako-sensei for drilling ballet into his system. Without her guidance, he would never be able to do an ina bauer as gracefully as he was doing it now.

 

Yuuri's eyes snapped open as he heard another gasp. Again, he skidded to a stop. He was not imagining it. Someone was in here with him.

 

As quietly as he could, he skated towards the boards and peered behind. He smirked after spotting something – someone, rather. Again, as quietly as he could, he skated directly behind the person crouched with his back tightly pressed to the other side of the boards.

 

“What are you doing?” he asked in English.

 

The kid shrieked and scrambled to get away from him as fast as he could, but lost balance anyway and tumbled down on the floor. Yuuri watched in amusement as the boy tried to untangle himself from his own limbs.

 

“S-Sorry!” the boy stuttered. He turned around, looking flustered and ready to bolt.

 

The boy had dark skin, jet black hair no different from Yuuri's, and big grey eyes. He looked to be a few years younger than him and was... pretty skinny. His clothes were clean but a bit worn out and definitely a size too small.

 

“Who are you?” he asked quietly.

 

The boy looked away and began to fidget nervously. “P-P-Phichit...”

 

“Phi, uhmmm... Phichit?”

 

The boy looked up and nodded bashfully. “You... Yuri Katsooke. Japan figure skater?”

 

He blinked in surprise. Then, he grinned as he corrected the pronunciation of the name. The boy bobbed his head up and down and practiced the name to get it right. When he finally got it right, Yuuri said,

 

“How did you get inside?”

 

The boy smiled but his eyes were still averted in apprehension.

 

“A-always go here. Secret... secret... way?” Phichit gave him a questioning look, as if asking if he understood what he was saying.

 

“You mean, you know of a secret entrance to this place?” Yuuri clarified slowly.

 

Phichit brightened and nodded vigorously. “Yes, yes!”

 

A secret entrance? An entrance his guards didn't know about?

 

“I see...”

 

“Then inside but no people,” Phichit chatted as Yuuri continued to ponder on the potential of escape. “But you here! Jump so high! Move so pretty!”

 

Yuuri blinked at that and felt his face heat up. “T-Thanks, I guess...”

 

Still, his mind stayed on the information Phichit, who continued to rant on without noticing he was reverting back to Thai, had unknowingly given him. There was an entrance that his bodyguards didn't know about. He could get out. He could go and do whatever he wanted. He had his wallet with him. He had his phone with him in case of emergency. He had his skating gear with him. All he had to do was to actually go.

 

“Yuri Katsuki! Here! I watch you skate tv! Now here!” Phichit declared happily with a flourish.

 

“Phichit, you said there's a way in and out of here? A secret one?”

 

Phichit paused from his enthusiastic storytelling and looked at Yuuri with questioning eyes.

 

“Y-Yes?”

 

“Can you tell me where it is?”

 

The other boy's face dulled as his arms fell limply to his sides.

 

“Y-You... tell black men watch door?” Phichit asked sadly, then desperately pled, “Sorry! P-Please, just want watch! No disturb! Promise!”

 

“No! No!” Yuuri hastened to deny. “I won't tell them!”

 

“T-Then why?” the Thai boy asked almost heartbrokenly. “Black men, watch doors outside. With you, right?”

 

Yuuri shook his head, but then nodded as he remembered that, yeah, they were actually with him, but he didn't intend to tell them because he wanted to take advantage of the opportunity that Phichit was presenting him.

 

“I know them, yes, but I don't want to tell them about your secret entrance. I just want to go without them seeing me!” he finally managed to say.

 

Phichit frowned at that. “Why?”

 

“I...” Yuuri started but paused. Like, how could he even tell Phichit of his situation? Actually, he wasn't allowed to tell anyone his situation. “I...”

 

Phichit stared at him, eyes searching and smart even when Yuuri was sure he was a couple of years younger than him. Then, the boy nodded slowly.

 

“No need tell me,” he said. “Escape. Want escape.”

 

Yuuri nodded.

 

And that's how Yuuri found himself outside with no bodyguards and no permission roaming the streets of Thailand under the intense heat of the sun with Phichit skip-walking beside him cheerfully.

 

“That,” Phichit pointed out to a big establishment. “Mall! Many shops! Many things! And food! But need money many.”

 

“Do you often go there?” Yuuri, who was not really interested since they had a lot of those in Japan, but for the sake of keeping his guide happy, asked anyway.

 

“No. No money. No to do when no money,” Phichit said nonchalantly.

 

“I have money,” he offered. “We can go there if you want.”

 

The other boy frowned at him, looking offended, before tipping his nose. “No. Don't want.”

 

Yuuri didn't really understand, but he guessed... It was rude of him? He decided to change the topic instead as they continued on their way. He didn't exactly know where they were going, but he was okay with just seeing whatever was along the way.

 

“So, why were you at the rink?”

 

Phichit glanced at him before smiling a little. “I love skating.”

 

“Did you want to skate earlier?” he asked, finding the topic more interesting than anything Phichit was pointing at him. Now that he thought about it though, maybe Phichit was there to skate. He didn't, however, see Phichit with any gear...

 

“Want but can't,” came Phichit's reply, his tone low and subdued. “No skate.”

 

“Can you skate?”

 

The boy shook his head. “Can't, no skate.”

 

“Ah! Well, you can just borrow a pair of rental skates there,” Yuuri suggested.

 

Again, the boy shook his head. “Can't, no money.”

 

“Well, ask from your parents then,” Yuuri thoughtlessly replied, which was a wrong thing to say.

 

Phichit stopped walking and glared at him.

 

“You, rich! Me, no! You has parents! Me, no!”

 

Yuuri was taken aback at the angry response from the boy. For a moment, he couldn't say anything back. At the back of his mind, he knew he made a mistake. While he didn't intend it, his lack of tact had probably hurt the other boy.

 

He cleared his throat awkwardly.

 

“I'm sorry... I didn't realize...”

 

Phichit huffed and continued to walk on. Yuuri followed behind, not really sure if Phichit was still willing to hang out with him. To his surprise, however, Phichit slowed down enough for Yuuri to catch up, so now they were once again walking side by side.

 

“Mother dead,” Phichit said quietly. “Father leave. Sometimes, I in orphanage, but there don't like.” Yuuri nodded but didn't reply. “I live at streets. Do small job for food.”

 

Yuuri's heart hurt to hear such words from the younger boy. He never had any problem with food. He never had to work. His parents were still alive and well. He had it good, but Phichit... This cheerful boy... he had nothing and no one.

 

“I'm sorry...”

 

Phichit shook his head and for a moment, they walked on quietly. Then, Phichit smiled brightly again.

 

“No money for skate, but I watch free!”

 

And from there, they continued talking about figure skating. Phichit was very interested to know how competitions were like and how other skaters were like. He was also quite invested as he listened attentively to Yuuri regaling him with stories of training, and coming up with routines, and who his favorite skater was and why. Phichit might be talkative, but he was also a very good listener. So, on and on they went talking and walking, and basically just seeing what this little place in Bangkok had to offer. Eventually, they arrived at a market where Phichit pointed out places where they could find something to eat. He insisted on paying for his food, but Yuuri pretended that he needed the change to get back to his lodge. He didn't tell him where he was staying and Phichit didn't ask.

 

After getting their food, packed for take-away, the boy led him to a small park not far from the crowded market.

 

“Do you want to compete?” Yuuri asked before taking a bite off his thai roti. Phichit narrowed his eyes at him. He simply shrugged. “I mean, if you could, would you want to?”

 

The boy scrunched his face before taking on a more serious look. “Hmmn... Yes! I skate _Shall We Skate?_!”

 

“What's that?”

 

Phichit gasped with his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open, food visible from where Yuuri sat. He reached out and nudged Phichit's chin up to hide away the unpleasant sight. If his parents saw him do that at the dinner table... Forget about being a prince, his ass would still get some whooping.

 

“Don't know _The King and The Skater_ ?!” Yuuri shook his head to the negative. Again, Phichit gasped in horror. “I poor! You rich!”

 

“What's that got to do with it?” Yuuri pouted.

 

“Just watch!” Phichit insisted with a hungry glint in his eyes.

 

“Fine, fine, I'll watch i - ”

 

Whatever Yuuri wanted to say, he never got to do so. Black sedans came screeching right in front of them and a horde of men in black suits came rushing out to surround him and a wide-eyed Phichit who scooted closer to Yuuri in fear.

 

“W-What?! Y-Yuuri, scary men! Scary men!” Phichit cried out tearfully before pushing at him. “Run! Run! Go!”

 

But Yuuri couldn't move. He knew they would find him soon enough. He just didn't think it would be so soon since they were in a foreign country. If they were in Japan, then they would have found him in seconds. It had only been a little more than an hour since he and Phichit left the rink and they were already found. There went Yuuri's freedom.

 

Saito-san stepped forward and bowed deeply, making Phichit jump in alarm. “ _Your Highness, let's go back to the hotel, please._ ”

 

Yuuri was so glad that Saito-san spoke in Japanese.

 

“ _I don't want to,_ ” he answered tonelessly. “ _I want to hang out with Phichit_.”

 

Saito-san straightened up and said as gently as he could, “ _Your parents are worried, Your Highness. We are, after all, in a foreign country._ ”

 

Yuuri huffed and ignored Phichit who was pulling on his sleeve desperately to tell him what was happening and who these people were.

 

“ _I don't care. I'll go back when I want to._ ”

 

“ _Your father has been informed already and is demanding your return as soon as possible_.”

 

“ _Well, that 'soon as possible'_ _will not be now._ ”

 

“Yuuri! Tell!” Phichit whined. He didn't look so scared now but he did seem to be a little curious.

 

Yuuri tensed as Saito-san's eyes fell on Phichit who, in turn, gulped.

 

“ _If Your Highness wants to hang out with this boy, then you can just bring him to the hotel,_ ” Saito-san suggested.

 

Yuuri thought about it, but...

 

“ _No, Phichit and I have places to go_.”

 

Saito-san, saintly as he was most of the time, looked at one of the guards and nodded. Without much fuss, the guard grabbed Phichit and lifted him up to his shoulders like a sack of rice.

 

“ _What the – Saito-san! That's just so rude!_ ” Yuuri complained as he tried to pull a screaming Phichit off the guard's shoulders, but the man was a lot taller that Yuuri and of course, a lot stronger. There was no way he could save the still screaming Phichit.

 

“ _I apologize for my insolence, Your Highness, but your father's orders are absolute._ ”

 

The guard stepped over to the car and carefully placed the now frozen Phichit into the back seat. With his new friend now officially kidnapped by Japan's imperial guards, there really wasn't much Yuuri could do but follow his friend into the car, mumbling and grumbling all the way before slamming the door shut angrily. He turned to Phichit, still frozen and wide-eyed, and said,

 

“I'm sorry, Phichit...” he sighed. “Sue my father.”

 

Phichit turned to him and made a big show of biting into his coconut cake (how he managed to hold on to it, Yuuri didn't know) and munching, his eyes still wide with trepidation.

 

 

 

Needless to say, Yuuri's parents fell in love with Phichit in no time. It also helped his case that the emperor and the empress were told about how Phichit tried to give Yuuri the chance to escape the “scary men”.

 

Sworn to secrecy, Phichit was understandably dumbfounded to know that he unwittingly befriended not just a rising star in his favorite sport, but also a secret prince who would someday become the Emperor of Japan. While the imperial family couldn't really adopt him legally, he was instead granted by the emperor (by the insistence – that was to say _the dictate –_ of the prince) naturalization with the condition of becoming the prince's personal aide and undercover bodyguard.

 

Thus, Phichit Chulanont, the poor kid with no parents, was uprooted from his life in the streets of Thailand and relocated to the imperial palace in Japan before the year ended in order to start his imperial training and, again, by the _insistence_ of the prince, figure skating training. That was also the start of Phichit's unhealthy obsession with kidnapping people for the sake of what he perceived as good.

 

 

_**WILL KATSUKI BE A PROBLEM TO NIKIFOROV?** _

 

 

 

=========================================================

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

1\. If anyone is from Thailand here, I mean no offense. I did research about Thai people's general English ability and I do understand that Thailand, or at least the major cities, can speak English well enough. I also remember a Thai reader from my other fanfic. Please do understand that Phichit is an orphan in this fanfic and has been on and off school. If the situation in Thailand is the same as in my country (English is not my mother tongue), then it is likely that Phichit's English will not be as good as Yuuri's who has access to education. I hope you understand. By the way, your food is really spicy! I love it! My tongue cried, but I love it!!! I was in Singapore when I first tried Thai food. I just don't know if that restaurant was serving us authentic Thai food. Anyway, one day I will definitely visit Thailand <3

2\. If you haven't noticed yet, Yuuri is Yuri as a skater (Yuri Katsuki). Outside skating, he is Yuuri (Prince Yuuri). Please don't be confused.

3\. **TKY Update:** I'm writing it, but it's hard to say when I can update. I've increased my workload this month and... anyway, life really gets in the way. I'll tweet about it once I'm ready to update, so please follow me if you haven't yet. Thank you! (<https://twitter.com/FloaterEli> )

4\. I know I'm not supposed to prioritize this. I promise I'm not. I've been working nonstop on TKY, but this one is really just too easy to write. It's also a lot shorter...

5\. I don't know if you noticed, but Yuuri is lowkey spoiled lol. Well, he's a prince so...

 


	6. Chapter 6

 

 

**[YUURI: 14 years old; VIKTOR: 18 years old]**

 

**JAPAN'S FUTURE LOOKS BRIGHT WITH KATSUKI**

 

 

 

 

> 14-year-old Junior skater Yuri Katsuki (JPN) beats out older skaters for gold in the recently concluded World Figure Skating Championships in Nice, France. While some say it is too early to put too much faith on such a young skater, more and more people are beginning to believe that we may just be witnessing the birth of a new legend.
> 
> Continue reading →
> 
>  
> 
> **JAPANESE ICE DEMON DOMINATES JGPF SERIES**
> 
> After claiming the top of the podium at Worlds, Katsuki (JPN) is back for this season stronger than ever before. Snagging gold at the Merano Cup against strong contenders like Louie Hernandez (AU) and Sebastian Cole (CA), Katsuki once again proves just why he is nicknamed the “Ice Demon”.
> 
> Continue reading →
> 
>  
> 
> **JAPAN'S EMERGING STAR KATSUKI WINS ALL**
> 
> Yuri Katsuki (JPN) wins gold at Golden Lynx Cup. Japan's rising star skater is bagging gold after gold this season. In fact, 14-year-old Katsuki has been winning not just his GPF qualifying events, but all the competitions he has been joining since the start of the season, and he doesn't seem to be slowing down any time soon. Dubbed as “Ice Demon”, Katsuki is the favorite to win the Junior Grand Prix Final which will be held in Goyang, South Korea this year.
> 
> Continue reading →

 

 

  **ST. PETERSBURG, RUSSIA**

 

For someone nicknamed so maliciously as “Ice Demon”, the beaming face of Yuri Katsuki that looked back at Yakov from the newspaper was anything but. With a beatific smile on pink lips, flushed chubby cheeks, and soft glittering brown eyes, the only thing close to dark to this boy was his jet black hair. And while the results of the competitions he had attended were quite intimidating for a newbie, the boy's performances, and Yakov did make sure to watch all of them, were also anything but. That was to say, the boy's artistry was so rich in emotions that anyone could relate to them at one level or another. In spite of being new to the circuit, Katsuki had this maturity in him that Yakov could hardly see in anyone of the same age.

 

He had watched his interviews, too, and he could say that Katsuki's maturity did not only apply on his craft. The boy, again for someone so new, was quite professional in handling the media. Timid but seemingly sweet and sincere, standoffish at a glance but adorable up close, respectful to a fault – that's the image that the boy was building for himself. Yakov wondered just how much of that was exactly real. Off ice, what kind of person was this kid? How hard did he train? What kind of training regimen did he have? More importantly, did he listen well to his coach without neglecting his artistic freedom? If the answer to his last question was yes, then this boy was just the perfect student a coach could ever ask for.

 

Yakov snorted at that last thought. According to his decades of experience in the sport, having a perfect student was utterly and undeniably impossible. Take Viktor Nikiforov for example. Man, just thinking about his 18-year-old skater was enough to have a few of his hair strands fall off. He swore he would be losing his hair before he even got to retirement age.

 

This Katsuki... He was sure to have some kinks hidden underneath that angelic facade. It probably was the reason why no matter how hard Yakov looked, he could not find a single training video of him. Heck, the boy didn't even have any record in the Novices. It was almost like, one day when he turned 13, Katsuki decided he wanted to see if he could win some medals in figure skating. Like, it was never something he pursued seriously in the first place. Like, any time, he would be leaving the sport if he didn't feel like it anymore. Was that probably one of his snags? But the boy seemed to be passionate about the sport. One simply could not stand at the top on talent alone. Take Viktor Nikiforov for example yet again. And Yakov did watch Katsuki's routines. Those were not routines that could be performed so flawlessly without dedication and serious training. His jumps needed more work though.

 

Well, only time could really say.

 

Yakov threw the newspaper down on the table. Katsuki had been making the headlines since last year and it didn't take long for Yakov to notice the wave the lad was causing. While junior skaters were normally overshadowed by the senior division, Katsuki's phenomenal and consecutive wins were a shout for everyone in the sport to pay attention. For his age, the boy was good, excellent even, but Yakov could not say yet if he was enough to rival someone like Viktor Nikiforov. For now, however, he was interested to know more about the boy.

 

He looked at the clock on the wall and sighed, steeling himself for another day of vocal gymnastics necessary to control international (troublemaking) athletes. He pulled out his scarf and wrapped it around his neck. The ice was not as kind to him as when he was younger. How he missed those days... But this was his life now. With a Japanese power emerging, his skaters needed to be better than ever before.

 

 

 

**[YUURI: 15 years old; VIKTOR: 19 years old]**

 

  **KATSUKI BREAKS NIKIFOROV'S JUNIOR RECORDS**

  **THE ICE DEMON CLAIMS GOLD AT JGPF FINALS**

 

 

** TOKYO, JAPAN **

 

“Mari-oneesama, are you sure about this?” Yuuri asked nervously.

 

Princess Mari, clad in a light pink kimono and a tiara on her head signifying her status as princess, gave him an exhausted look before sipping on the cup of tea she was holding in her hands for comfort. These past months had been hectic for the princess. After their talk about succession a few years ago, their parents had done all the necessary preparations for the transfer of title from Mari to Yuuri. Naturally, the process had taken a couple of years for the decision to be finalized.

 

In the meanwhile, Mari had enrolled herself to military school. Her real identity had been kept secret and only the highest of the officials knew of her ongoing studies and training in the academy. Today, however, that would change. Today, it was time to announce not just her identity, but also her renunciation of her birthright, and by doing so, the declaration of Yuuri's ascended title from second-in-line to heir apparent. It was a thought that Yuuri would rather not think about right now.

 

“This is what I want, Yuuri,” Mari said into the quiet of the room, save for the muffled commotion from outside the sanctuary of the holding room. In a few minutes, Mari was going to stand out there to pubicly address the people.

 

While the women of the Chrysanthemum Throne had mostly been in the court, a few of them had been warriors that led battalions in times of war. Mari was not the first female noble to become a soldier, not the first to go against traditions, but the first to give up the throne because she had lost her soulmate.

 

“I think this is unfair.”

 

“Yuuri,” Mari sighed. “Even if my soulmate was alive, I would still choose to give up on the throne.”

 

“You said so before,” Yuuri huffed. “But how true is that?”

 

“Oh, very real,” Mari laughed. “Court life has never been fascinating to me, you know that. Being a soldier is a lot more fun. Why do you think I excel so much in military school? It's because I enjoy it. To me, it feels like coming back to my roots.”

 

The younger sibling kept his quiet for a moment. If his sister was really happy to be out there... Then, he would do his best to not be such a disappointing replacement.

 

“If you say so...”

 

Mari gave him a sad look. “The people will love you.”

 

The prince snorted at that. “I'm pretty sure there would be protests against the change in succession.”

 

“Maybe,” Mari shrugged. “After all, the entire nation believed for so long that I will be taking up the mantle once father kicks the bucket or chooses to abdicate. It will take some time, but they will eventually accept it.”

 

“I don't want to think about this right now,” Yuuri muttered into his cup. “I'll take things one at a time.”

 

The princess snorted, something she was only ever allowed to do when it's just family in the room.

 

“Yeah, one at a time. Win the soulmate's heart and dominate the figure skating world – whichever comes first. Then, maybe graduate from university. I'm pretty sure being the emperor is just down there somewhere in the priority list.”

 

By the time his sister had finished talking, the prince was already a mumbling mess.

 

“I-It's not like ascending the throne is an immediate concern! Father is still young and strong!” he cried in his pitiful attempt to defend himself. The princess merely laughed at him.

 

For a few more minutes, the siblings were silent, each lost in their own thoughts. In so many ways, today's announcement would change many things for both of them. While Yuuri was banned from showing his face to the crowd gathering outside the Imperial Palace to be later on addressed by Mari at the balcony, he was already feeling the responsibility slowly laying itself on his shoulders. One day, those people outside, those people in their homes who would be watching the announcement today on TV, even the Japanese population living outside of Japan – one day, he would be their ruler. He would be responsible for so many lives. Frightening was an understatement. Pressure could barely cover how he felt. But it was a future that was already decided. It was a future he had already accepted. Well, that was if he could win his soulmate's heart... Then again, for now, Viktor was safe from it all. For now, the Agency had no idea who his soulmate was. For now, his family was willing to keep the secret. For now, at least. For now.

 

“I couldn't do anything when they dragged him away,” Mari stated quietly. “I was weak. I was powerless... But I learned from it.” Mari looked up to meet Yuuri's eyes. “I will not let anyone hurt the people I love ever again.”

 

The prince nodded. He understood what Mari meant. Wasn't Yuuri doing the same thing right now?

 

“Your Highness, Princess Mari,” an attendant from the House beckoned. “It's time.”

 

The princess nodded and put her tea cup down. She rose from her seat and fixed Yuuri with an intense look.

 

“Protect your soulmate as much as you can, Yuuri,” she said, her countenance strong and passionate. “You have to succeed in what I failed to do.”

 

The princess then walked away, back straight and strong, chin up and eyes fierce. Yuuri promised himself that he would be as strong if not stronger than his sister. His life was no longer his from now on.

   

 

 

 

 

> **RESHUFFLING IN THE JAPANESE IMPERIAL SUCCESSION**
> 
>  
> 
> Today was supposed to be an important day in Japan as Princess Mari's re-introduction to the world had been announced months ago. Instead, however, after the formal introduction, the princess announced her renunciation of her claim to the throne as the heir apparent. Surprisingly, this was not an act of rebellion on the side of the princess, as one might initially think, as her decision had been made known to and accepted by the Imperial Family, the Imperial Household Agency, and the Imperial Court years ago.
> 
>  
> 
> The princess then informed the public that she is currently a cadet in the Military Academy of Japan and expressed her desire to be more hands on in protecting the country in the future. While this isn't the first time that a Japanese nobility had exchanged status for military life, this is the only time that a first-in-line heir had done so in written history.
> 
>  
> 
> Since the renunciation is final, this puts 15-year-old Prince Yuuri, the previously second-in-line, as now the heir apparent who will succeed his father, Emperor Toshiya.
> 
>  
> 
> Read Full Article
> 
>  

 

  **ST. PETERSBURG, RUSSIA**

 

Yakov wondered how he got himself in this situation. Maybe it started when he read those accursed newspapers about this Japanese skater. Or, maybe it was when he even bothered to ask around about who this boy really was. Hmmnnn... Maybe it was because of those formal-looking letters he had been getting and decided he was not interested so he threw them straight into the fireplace? OR! Probably it was when he had a fight with Lilia and he decided it was a good idea to get shitface drunk in a pub somewhere. Yep, maybe that was that... That was how he had gotten himself picked up in the first place and found himself waking up in this – this five-star hotel. He had honestly expected to wake up in a ditch, not in a fuckin' expensive hotel suite that not even Viktor Nikiforov could afford.

 

“Now that you've eaten and drank your coffee, I think we can start discussing matters,” a familiar face by the name of Minako Okukawa said from across the living room as she stood behind the single couch where Yuri Katsuki, dressed in dark blue 3-piece suit, was currently seated, back straight, face passive, and hands daintily positioned on the armrests. He was looking at Yakov steadily, eyes indecipherable and mysterious, seemingly more mature than his age.

 

Yakov could not make sense of this situation of his. Minako Okukawa, as far as Yakov remembered, was a former ballerina who retired and disappeared from the public eye after winning numerous awards and accolades. He knew her, of course. His wife was a ballerina after all. And, yes, Yakov was aware that she had recently emerged from obscurity walking beside Japan's current star skater in the junior category.

 

“Minako Okukawa,” he grumbled moodily. “Years of not hearing from you and not showing up at Lilia's dinners... And you suddenly popped up like this? I don't even know where to start.”

 

Minako smiled fondly at him. “I apologize, Yakov. Things... had been rather complicated these past few years.”

 

He grunted. “I would be stupid if I believed that it was mere coincidence that you found me last night.”

 

The former ballerina, now pretending to be a skating coach with a shady background, nodded too cheerfully.

 

“I was waiting for a reply from you,” she said. “You never answered, I'm hurt.”

 

“Try writing your name, why don't you?” he snapped back.

 

The woman laughed before her eyes fell on the boy in front of her who was still staring at Yakov blankly. For someone so expressive on ice, the boy was unnervingly impassive in person.

 

“So, this is Yuri Katsuki,” she introduced. The boy inclined his head to a nod.

 

Yakov sighed, already knowing what this was about. “I don't normally train foreign skaters, Minako.”

 

“Don't think I didn't know you've been sniffing around about him, Yakov,” the woman said with a sharp grin. “Name your price.”

 

Now, Yakov was taken aback. Name his price? He knew he woke up in a luxury hotel, he even noticed that the suit that Katsuki was wearing was a designer one, but for some reason, he couldn't understand this at all. His eyes took in the room they were currently in. Ceilings decorated with chandeliers of the most intricate designs studded with crystals and gems, stylish and well-polished furnitures obviously created by some top-tier designers, pristine white cotton rugs covering the floor, Italian leather couches to sit on, and... men in black suits standing by the towering walls... Just who were these people?!

 

“Who the fuck are you people?” he demanded rather harshly. What had Minako been getting herself into?! This was shady! This was just shady! Yakov might have the face of a criminal but his record was clean, dammit!

 

“Ah - ah,” Minako tutted. “Hmnn... I can tell you, but you will have to accept the offer first.”

 

“Nope,” Yakov attempted to stand up, but in a blink of an eye, two men in black suits appeared behind him and pushed him back down. “This is illegal! This is kidnapping!”

 

“Oh, my,” Minako chuckled. “Don't be scared, Yakov. It's just me, little Mina.”

 

“Don't be scared?!” he spat, trying his hardest not to look too intimidated. Fuck! He was just a coach, dammit! The best coach there was, but still just a humble coach!

 

“Coach Feltsman.” His eyes snapped to the source of the melodic voice, recognizing it as Yuri Katsuki's. The boy was still wearing that poker-face, but there was gentleness in his eyes now. “I'm sorry for the inconveniences, but I would be honored if you would take me as your student.”

 

Yakov blinked. Huh. The boy was really respectful like the reputation that preceded him.

 

“And why would I accept you, boy?” he asked.

 

“Oh, Yakov. I suggest you be careful with your word choices,” Minako said lightly, but her eyes were narrowed at the men he knew were standing behind him. “These guys do not tolerate disrespect to Yuri here.”

 

“Please,” the boy said with a heavy sigh. “Obviously, your methods are ineffective. Let me deal with this. #14, #12, please resume your position against the wall.” Gentle as the boy's voice was, there was something about it that even Yakov could almost feel himself hasten to make a beeline for the wall. “Coach Feltsman, I understand that this conversation has been stressful for you given your current condition. As I said earlier, I would be honored if you accept me as your student. I've looked up to you since I was a child and I can completely admire your work on Viktor Nikiforov. I promise to work really hard.”

 

Yakov thought about it. Minako was not wrong. He was interested in the boy. He sighed heavily, giving in a little bit.

 

“Well, Minako is right. You have indeed caught my eye for a while now and I was already preparing to offer my services to you. However, given the events that transpired today... I am worried that I am involving myself into something that is... that may be related to, to put it nicely, the wrong crowd of the society.”

 

For the first time, Yuri Katsuki smiled at him. “I assure you that I and the people I am affiliated with are not illegal in any way.”

 

“Then, why all these?” he gestured toward the guards and the room.

 

The Japanese skater lost the smile on his lips. He fixed Yakov with a hard look instead.

 

“I will tell you who I am - ”

 

“No!” Minako frowned, panic crossing her still young-looking face. “That's not advisable, Yuri.”

 

“If he agrees to be my coach, then it's necessary that he knows the truth to fully understand my situation.”

 

“And if he doesn't agree?” Minako challenged.

 

“Whether he agrees or not, he will be signing an agreement,” Katsuki said tonelessly. Again, Yakov questioned how this boy was only fifteeen. He was clearly holding the power among everyone here who are all a lot older than him. “Do you understand, Coach Feltsman?”

 

Yakov could already feel the headache coming. He was right. There really was no perfect student. “If I don't?”

 

For a moment, the boy only stared at him. Then, he said, “Do you really want to know?”

 

Yakov decided not to risk it and simply went on ahead. “Do you listen well?”

 

“Depends on what you tell me,” the boy responded.

 

“Do you train hard?”

 

“I do, yes.”

 

“I don't care how much you pay me, but I will tell you in advance: I yell and I'm not shy at telling you what you are doing wrong.”

 

“Fair enough with me.”

 

“I mean it. I shout. I don't care if many people are there. I. Will. Shout.”

 

“Then, I will not give you any reason to shout in public.”

 

Yakov's eyes narrowed. This was too easy, so it was too suspicious. There was no perfect student. Viktor Nikiforov, his most successful student ever, was far from perfect.

 

“What's the catch?” he demanded to know.

 

Katsuki's face went blank again. Then, he sighed.

 

“Coach Feltsman, what do you know about the Japanese imperial family?”

 

Yakov wanted to pull on his hair. And here we have another curve ball. Just what was this all about? They were talking about skating! What did the Japanese imperial family have to do with this?! Yakov could just feel his headache getting worse.

 

“Yuri,” Minako warned, her face tensed.

 

“Don't tell me you're a Japanese prince or something,” Yakov threw out without really thinking about it.

 

“That's correct,” Katsuki chimed in with a smile.

 

Yakov chuckled lifelessly. Then, he fainted.

 

 

When he came to, the boy was still sitting there, face looking a bit apologetic. Minako popped into view as she held out two fingers at his face.

 

“How many fingers do you see?” she asked.

 

Yakov bared his teeth, but answered anyway. “Two. Now, get away from me.”

 

The woman did so with a chuckle. “I never knew you were the fainting type, Yakov.”

 

“Shut up,” he grumbled, face heating up in embarrassment. He regarded the boy and spat. “Don't spring up things like that so suddenly! I'm an old man!”

 

“You're not that old,” the kid answered.

 

“Flattery will not take you anywhere,” he shot back.

 

“It's not flattery,” Katsuki mumbled, face going all red and puppy-like. He could just feel the men in black swoon even without looking at them. “But if you want me to regard you as an old man, then, okay, I guess...”

 

“Shut up!” he snarled.

 

There was a commotion behind him and he turned around to see the men in black with their guns out. Christ!

 

Katsuki snapped something out in his native language and the guards retreated, eyes all glaring at Yakov. If looks could kill, Yakov would have been in hell by now.

 

“Yakov, I told you,” Minako sighed. “These guys don't take any disrespect to Yuri lightly.”

 

“It's fine,” Katsuki said with a click of his tongue. “He's going to be my coach. You can't go on attacking him every single time he criticizes me!”

 

“I haven't agreed to coaching you yet,” he quipped.

 

“But, Your Highness – ”

 

“Saito-san, it's fine,” Katsuki said impatiently. Or was it 'Your Highness' now? Yakov would rather cut his tongue. “Treat him like how you treat Phichit-kun.”

 

“But Phichit-kun knows his boundaries,” the man called Mr. Saito reasoned out.

 

“No, he doesn't,” Katsuki deadpanned. “Saito-san, it's really okay. You can't beat Coach Feltsman up every time he has to do his job.”

 

Beat him up? Huh. Just what did he get himself into? He really should have skipped that vodka last night. It was a pricey kind, too. He should have just saved that money. Better yet, he should just have bought a bouquet of flowers for Lilia instead. He wouldn't be in this predicament right now if he had. Well... Actually, maybe trouble would still find him. They seemed to know his rink address and Minako certainly knew his home addresss. This was his fate. How unfortunate.

 

“Very well, Your Highness,” the man conceded before backing up against the wall, eyes still glaring daggers at the Yakov.

 

“Well, now then,” Katsuki smiled cheerfully. “What do you say, Coach Feltsman?”

 

Yakov sighed heavily. Really, what was he being so difficult about anyway? He had been trying to get into contact with the boy. Now here he was. What else was there to say?

 

“I will remind you again. I don't give a shit about you being a prince. When I train, I train hard. You understand?”

 

Katsuki smiled brightly and for the first time since meeting the boy, he looked exactly that – a boy. Finally, he was acting his age. There was just something unnerving about a teenager acting like an adult. If this kid was usually like this, then maybe training him wouldn't be so hard.

 

Maybe. He had never trained a secret prince before, though. There ought to be some snags in there somewhere along the way. Best expect the worst.

 

The next evening, after finally finishing reading and signing a very comprehensive secrecy agreement and was allowed to go home, after apologizing and romancing Lilia to be allowed to get into the house and receive dinner, Yakov sat down in front of a computer and began to do his research about the prince of Japan. And he wondered, he truly wondered, how he was going to pull this off. A prince masquerading as a figure skater? And nobody found him out? What the fuck did he get himself into?

 

Then, not even in the middle of his research to know more about Japan's imperial family, something caught Yakov's eyes that nearly sent him straight to the hospital because of heart attack:

 

_“ **PRINCE YUURI OFFICIALLY BECOMES HEIR APPARENT TO THE THRONE”**_

 

Yakov wanted to cry. Really, how did he get himself into this predicament? All he wanted to do was to be the best coach there could be in history. All he wanted to do was scout a very talented skater. All he wanted to do was help young people reach their dreams. Instead, what he got was a prince who would someday become an emperor. Not just any emperor, mind you. A real-deal future head of state of one of the world's most powerful countries.

 

And he thought Viktor Nikiforov was bad enough. There really were no perfect students.

 

Yakov was sure there was still a bottle of vodka remaining in the cellar somewhere.

 

 

 

=========================================================

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

1\. Follow me here for updates and general daily drama of my life: <https://twitter.com/FloaterEli>

2\. I wrote this in three days flat. Ha ha ha... Look at my eyebags!

3\. I don't really have any notes to write here, so let's just pray for poor Yakov.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER 7**

 

 

 **[YUURI:** still **18 years old; VIKTOR:** still **22 years old]**

 

**ST.PETERSBURG, RUSSIA**

Viktor was not skating well. And when Yakov said Viktor was not skating well, he meant that technically, he was flawless. He only wished he could say the same about the emotions in his routine, though. Nowadays, Viktor reminded him of those artsy candles he often saw in souvenir and candle shops – intricate, perfect, dainty... But without the fire flickering at its wick, looked all cold, lifeless, and just that, a candle – nothing special, not really necessary, just a decoration for the table top. Since when had Viktor lost that life in him? He used to shine so bright on the ice.

 

It was disquieting. Was what he had been fearing all these years finally happening? Was Viktor finally discovering how lonely it could be at the top?

 

As he watched Viktor run his routine again, polishing it (though Yakov thought that they both could agree that there was nothing else to fix, and it was more on what it was lacking...) ready for the coming season, Yakov thought back to when this change had started in the Russian skating star.

 

He snorted. He didn't need to think too far back.

 

It wasn't really hard to determine at what point this all started. No, it wasn't when Katsuki left. It was after Viktor won the GPF and eventually, the Worlds, that he started being like this. From lack of vigor right after winning the GPF, it had morphed to lack of motivation by the time Worlds rolled around. He still won in spite of that – and that, Yakov believed, was what was mentally fucking the skater up even more. The idea that if he put on the same performance level with Katsuki around, he would not have won against him. Yet, he still stood at the podium, unchallenged.

 

Yakov grunted to himself. Well, he guessed that for Viktor, this was a classic case of _'be careful what you wish for'_. He had wished Katsuki gone, now he found nothing but discontent. Poor, Vitya.

 

Loud scraping sounds and a yelp caught Yakov's attention back to the ice.

 

“Mila, that was intentional,” Viktor groaned as he brushed off the ice from his clothes and his hair.

 

Mila turned up her nose at him and skated away without apologizing, leaving Viktor to grumble in annoyance.

 

Mila had been doing a lot of that these days (months, really). She was upset with the older skater, blaming him for Katsuki's absence in the rink. The two had been quite close before the young lad had to go. Honestly, it was kind of unfair to Viktor since it wasn't really his fault that Katsuki had to leave. Whether they were the best of friends or the worst of enemies, Katsuki would still have left. The only reason why Yakov was only half-heartedly berating little Mila was the fact that Viktor had indeed been unnecessarily mean to the Japanese skater. The boy was probably the most well-behaved and modest student a coach could ever ask for. Yakov was only glad that Katsuki never had the tendency to use his status in life in his skating career. Otherwise, Viktor would be in so much shit. Imagine if Japan heard that he was bullying their prince and future emperor: Good luck to him if he ever got slotted for NHK Trophy.

 

Almost two years of sharing the rink, yet the idiot had never shown Katsuki a sliver of kindness. Yakov personally never thought Viktor could be so shallow like this, so really, it was easy to put the blame on him.

 

“Vitya,” he called out. “Time to get off the ice.” His prodigal student looked at him before turning away, determined to continue working on his routine. Yakov was not having it though. The skater had been on ice for hours now and he still had off-ice training to go to. “Viktor, I'm warning you!”

 

The idiot continued to ignore him. Yakov grabbed the poodle tissue box sitting on the boards and threw it at Viktor's head. Target locked and Viktor whined.

 

“That was so mean, Yakov!” Viktor cried out, rubbing his head as if the box actually hurt. Yakov wished he used the skate guards instead.

 

“Off the ice, NOW!” he barked. As a testimony to how out of sorts Viktor was nowadays, the skater obeyed him. _He actually obeyed him_. Normally, Viktor would have just laughed and skated to the other end of the rink, far away from Yakov's reach.

 

“Bye, Yakov!” Viktor waved a hand, pasting a smile on his face, but it was not the usual sunny grin that he normally gave him. It was just a grin that didn't really reach his eyes.

 

Once the skater was gone, Yakov looked back to the ice to observe his remaining skaters. Before he could bark at Georgi who, for some reason, was bashing his head on the boards, his phone vibrated in his pocket. Ignoring Georgi for now, he took his phone out and looked at the number. His eyebrows rose just as a smirk forced its way to his lips. He clicked the answer button:

 

“Good evening, coach,” said a familiar melodic voice from the other line, and just like that, Yakov breathed a sigh he didn't know he was holding in.

 

“It's about time, you slacker,” he greeted.

 

 

 

**TOKYO, JAPAN**

Currently, Hibeki Saito's entire life was flashing right before his eyes and he couldn't help but wonder if he was _inexplicably_ dying. What happened again?

 

He had woken up this morning, prepared himself to meet his future emperor, had his breakfast, peptalked himself in the bathroom, drove himself to the imperial building that housed the emperor's offices, met someone called Phichit whom he had never seen before (but then again, he had not been in the palace for a long time so...) along the way, greeted the emperor, and finally stood himself beside his father as he waited for his soon-to-be boss. He had been a few seconds away from fulfilling his one and only goal in life, and that was to take over his father's job and be the best imperial staff member history had ever seen. Now, suddenly, he was dead? And had somehow even gone to heaven?

 

That was very _very_ suspicious. He was so sure he was going to hell... yet he wasn't.

 

Hibeki must admit: He was a dull person. He had always been one. He was that kid that went to school, then went straight back home to do his homework. He was that kid who, after being invited oh so graciously by other kids to hang out after school, would call his mother or father to ask for permission only to tell them in advance to tell him no so he had a valid reason to say no to the other kids (and wow was that a mouthful). He was not interested in other people. He was not interested in many things in life. He just wanted to be alone and get whatever he needed to do done as soon as possible.

 

Now, before anyone got him wrong, Hibeki did respect the emperor and the imperial family. He respected his loving mother and hardworking father. He respected everyone working for the glory of Japan. He, however, only valued one person in his life. Curiously enough, it wasn't anyone in his life.

 

Some years ago, when he was young and not really lost ('coz he was never that dramatic type of person, like duh), he, by chance, came upon life's greatest artwork. No, no offense to Michelangelo or to Picasso, or whoever. No offense, really, but only one artwork had ever captured Hibeki's very nonsensical mind and sent it straight to the land of holy beings, dancing lights, and everything nice humans were never worthy enough to be part of: Katsuki Yuri. Katsuki Yuri – that beautiful _beautiful_ ethereal being that blessed the world with his existence as he descended upon the ice and showed mercy upon the brokenness of humanity by sharing the warmth from the heavens. Katsuki Yuri – his muse, his self-interest, his god. Katsuki Yuri.

 

Watching him compete through the years had been the strength that pushed Hibeki to finish his studies and rigid training abroad and in Japan. The loneliness of being away from anything familiar, the dissatisfaction of eating food too heavy for his stomach, the heaviness of the responsibilities that were expected to fall on his shoulders that he stupidly didn't anticipate when he arrogantly dared himself to conquer the Imperial Household's history... It was all nothing if he could, at the end of the day, watch recorded videos of his muse. Katsuki Yuri.

 

Then, Katsuki Yuri left the competition... and Hibeki was sure his future was dark. Having gotten himself shitfaced drunk at the announcement of Katsuki Yuri's break from competition opened the way for Hibeki to finally admit to himself (never to anyone though) that he was one dramatic bitch. Ah, the honesty that Katsuki Yuri invoked in people... He was indeed a heaven-sent and maybe Hibeki's lack of real inner strength was why Katsuki Yuri had to be taken away from them mere mortals. He needed to be a better person.

 

So now, here he was, standing beside his father, waiting for his future boss who would be his top priority but would never truly be able to win his soul the same way Katsuki Yuri did.

 

Or so he thought.

 

Only years and years of training kept Hibeki standing instead of fainting down to the floor. Inside him however, he was freaking the fuck out.

 

Katsuki Yuri was in the house y'all! Like, what?!

 

“Father,” Katsuki Yuri's eyes strayed over to Hibeki's (oh gosh!) before looking straight to his father (his father?! The emperor?! Huh?!), his face neutral and very far from the expressive countenance he normally wore on ice. Was this really Katsuki Yuri? A doppelganger perhaps? “Your Majesty, you called for me?”

 

Emperor Toshiya laughed as he stood from his seat. “No need to be formal, Yuuri. It's just us here.”

 

The skater (addressed as Yuuri by the emperor???) nodded, face still blank and cold. He looked at Hibeki again (oh, he was so ready to die!), before saying,

 

“What is it, father? If this is about figure skating – ”

 

!!!

 

Figure skating!!! So he really was Katsuki Yuri!!! But... But how? Hibeki meant, HOW WAS KATSUKI YURI, A PROMINENT INTERNATIONAL ATHLETE, IN THE IMPERIAL PALACE TALKING TO AND CALLING THE EMPEROR FATHER?!!! Was he the emperor's lovechild perhaps? NO! The emperor would never cheat on the empress! They loved each other too much! They were soulmates! So... So... Katsuki Yuri. Kat...su...ki...

 

Fuck.

 

If he weren't in front of the emperor and the prince, Hibeki would have facepalmed.

 

Of course. Of the fucking course. 'Katsuki' was the empress's maiden name and 'Yuri' was Yuuri. Katsuki Yuuri. Prince Yuuri of the Chrysanthemum Throne. Yep, any time now, Hibeki would be having that long overdue heart attack.

 

“Chill, boy. I haven't changed my mind,” Emperor Toshiya chuckled fondly at his son (his son!). “You're already nineteen. Don't you think you should be long past the rebellious stage?”

 

The prince (the prince????!!!) blinked, a smirk forming on his lips. That heart attack was probably gaining strength for a proper momentum, Hibeki was convinced.

 

“I seem to remember you telling Mari-oneesama that nineteen is still a kid.”

 

His Majesty shook his head playfully. “Ah, you caught me.” He then motioned toward Hibeki and his father. The heart attack still hadn't come, but by gods, Hibeki's heart had probably ascended to heaven already. “Yuuri, do you know the gentleman with Akira-san here?”

 

Katsuki Yu – no, Prince Yuuri's gaze turned to him. Hibeki could feel his face burn. He guessed this was one of those times that he was thankful for having a stoic face by default. Otherwise, he would be a mess and an embarrassment to his ancestors as he melted to a pathetic splotch of goo on the floor here inside the Emperor's office. He was suddenly very aware of his father standing beside him. He wouldn't be disowning him should that happen, right?

 

“I don't think so, but he looks a lot like Saito-san,” finally came the Prince's reply after a moment of intense scrutiny.

 

The emperor chuckled and said, “His name is Hibeki Saito. He's Akira-kun's son who has spent the last 10 years abroad for his studies. From tomorrow, he will be taking the role as your head secretary.”

 

“What? Why?” the prince demanded almost indignantly, which was a stab to Hibeki's poor heart. “Saito-san has always been there by my side since I was a child... I don't understand...” Then, the prince turned big sad eyes to Hibeki's father. “Are you tired of taking care of me, Saito-san?”

 

Hibeki sensed more than saw his father puff his chest in protest as if the mere idea of it was just so ridiculous. Hibeki agreed. He would never tire of taking care of the prince, not now especially that he knew just who the prince was... or rather, who Katsuki Yuri really was.

 

“No such thing, Your Highness,” his father said curtly before adding gently, “It's my greatest honor to have served you all these years.”

 

“Then, why?” the prince asked brokenheartedly and consequently also broke Hibeki's heart.

 

The emperor cluck his tongue before nodding to himself and turned to look at Akira.

 

“I think you should explain this to him instead, Akira-kun,” he said before leaning back to observe the discussion.

 

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Hibeki's father bowed before addressing the prince. “Your Highness Prince Yuuri, it has been a pleasure to stand by your side all these years both as your retainer and personal secretary, but the time has come not only for my son but also for Phichit-san to take over my duties.”

 

“But Saito-san – ”

 

“Yuuri, son, let him finish,” the emperor quipped.

 

“I am getting old, Your Highness,” Akira smiled sadly. “With you being the next-in-line, you need someone who can carry out the support necessary for your position as the Crown Prince and eventually, as Emperor.”

 

“But I won't be emperor for a long, long time!” the prince protested. “I even make sure that he drinks his vitamins everyday!”

 

Akira nodded as the emperor pouted. “That may be so, Your Highness, but you need someone to be there all the way. It is best that Hibeki stay by your side so both of you can grow together into your positions and be well prepared for the future. In a blink of the eye, your generation will be running this country. For me and His Majesty Emperor Toshiya, it will soon be time for us to step back.”

 

“And enjoy our retirement,” the emperor jokingly interjected. The prince dared to glare at him, which Hibeki seriously found very endearing.

 

Prince Yuuri bit his lower lip in agitation as he thought over the things that his long-time companion had told him. He knew that this was a big change for the prince. He grew up under the care of Hibeki's father after all.

 

… And to think that Hibeki used to lament how his father had always been absent at home to stay by the prince's side, how his father had talked so fondly about the prince in the rare times that they could share a family dinner together... how he had almost lost his father in an ambush during a kidnapping incident involving the prince and princess...

 

Now, he felt grateful to his father for doing his job so well.

 

But wait... Wait a fucking minute here...

 

Did it mean that his father helped the prince out as he competed as well?!

 

Hibeki blinked at that. He had just belatedly realized something.

 

His father had spent the past couple of years in Russia. Looking back, Hibeki did wonder what he was doing there because if he was there, that meant the prince was there. While the prince's academic whereabouts were largely confidential, Hibeki knew that – and he knew this because his father had been so proudly gushing about this during one particular dinner during school break – at the age of 14, the prince had qualified for a prestigious university in England because apparently, he was a genius.

 

Hibeki couldn't help but want to smack himself for his lack of concern back then. If he was only a little bit interested, then he would have found out soon enough who the prince was! Geez!

 

“Your Highness, Hibeki has dedicated himself to his studies all these years to be of service to the crown,” Akira continued, oblivious to his own son's internal turmoil. “I hope you will grant him this honor.”

 

Saito-san bowed and Hibeki managed to snap himself out of it and followed suit.

 

He heard the prince sigh, making Hibeki realize right there and then that he was actually scared to be rejected.

 

“I'm heading back to St. Petersburg in a few days. Are you coming with me, Hibeki-san?”

 

He gasped loudly without meaning to, hope filling his heart at the prince's words.

 

“You're training again?!” He paused and gulped at the eyes trained on him. He cleared his throat as he felt the burn on his cheeks crawl its way down his neck. “I-I mean, yes, your Highness.”

 

“Someone's a fan, I see,” the emperor mused with a teasing grin to which the prince surprisingly blushed at.

 

“I knew my son had been gushing about a particular Japanese skater,” Akira tutted, “But dear me. I must have forgotten to mention some important things to him.”

 

“I-I... F-Fa – I'm sorry, Your Highness,” Hibeki bowed low as he gathered his courage and straightened up again to address the prince. “I-I'm a big fan of your skating, Your Highness! And – And I am really glad that you will be competing again in the coming season! I will do my best to cheer for you!” Hibeki bowed again, now more than ever sure that his services would be rejected.

 

For a moment, the prince did not say anything. Hibeki maintained the bow. Then, the prince said so shyly,

 

“Thank you for your support. I will do my best.”

 

The breath that escaped his lungs almost knocked Hibeki down to the floor. He straightened once again with carefully and politely averted eyes.

 

“I will also do my best to support you, Your Highness. From today onwards, I will be by your side wherever you may be in this world.”

 

Hibeki worried if he said too much. He worried that the words he chose to say creeped the prince out. He worried that -

 

“Thank you. I look forward to walking to the future with you by my side.”

 

Hibeki just wanted to cry.

 

“Don't get any ideas, Hibeki-kun,” the emperor chirped from behind his desk. “My son is taken, alright? He already has a soulmate.”

 

Hibeki gaped at the emperor before noticing what he was doing and averted his eyes. The prince already met his soulmate? When? Who? He needed to know!

 

“F-Father!” the prince squeaked, face turning tomato red at his father's words.

 

“What?” Emperor Toshiya smiled nonchalantly. “He needs to know anyway.”

 

“Even so!” Prince Yuuri chided. “That's a secret!”

 

“At least I didn't tell him who it is,” the emperor sulked before grinning. Before he could say anything else, however, the prince beat him to it.

 

“Have you met Phichit?” the prince said too loudly, clearly trying to drown out his father. “Do you know him? He's going to Russia with us as a skater, too. I hope you can get along.”

 

“Ah, yes,” Hibeki responded. “I've met him.”

 

The prince smiled brightly. “Then, I hope we can all get along!”

 

Ah... There's the familiar face of Hibeki's beloved Katsuki Yuri. He swooned internally. He got to be with his favorite skater. He got to be with his country's beloved prince. Hibeki, admittedly, was such a lucky bastard.

 

“Yes, Your Highness!”

 

 

 

**ST.PETERSBURG, RUSSIA**

It was summer: yey. It wasn't much of a summer: yey. It was the usual gloomy summer day in St. Petersburg which, to Viktor's own humble opinion, was better spent at home cuddling up with Makkachin. Poor pup had to be left in the house alone by himself...

 

Really, what was he even doing with his life? Did he even actually have a life? Maybe he did... but for now, it was lost to him. Maybe he should skip training today. He'd win the next competition without a single drop of sweat anyway.

 

At the thought, Viktor found his feet freezing on the spot.

 

The idea of just going home to cuddle up with Makkachin was an extremely tempting one. He really didn't want to be in the rink today. Yakov would just kick him out anyway to find progress somewhere else for the day. He'd been doing that a lot in the past months after all.

 

Viktor sighed as he looked up to the sky. He so wanted to just go back to his apartment... but no. If he didn't at least show his face to Yakov even for a minute, he'd never hear the end of it. Might as well show up and wait 'til the coach got tired of him and kicked him out again for the day. What was Viktor even hesitating about? It was an unfailing cycle.

 

So, like a robot, Viktor managed to walk himself to the rink. He'd do his best today, regardless of the fact that he hadn't really been making much progress in his programs. How could he even fix something that was already lost? And the funny part about it? He was still going to win no matter what.

 

Did it even matter? Nothing really mattered anymore.

 

He'd do his best, if not for himself, then at least for Makkachin... even if his baby furball didn't really care about his medals.

 

Should he just retire?

 

Makkachin didn't want his medals. The pooch just wanted Viktor's presence. He had enough savings to last him a few years. His investments were going well, too. He could go back to school and find another job away from the ice...

 

Why was it so hard to breathe?

 

Honestly speaking, was there even a reason to continue skating? If there was, Viktor couldn't remember it right now.

 

He forced himself to enter the facility anyway.

 

He headed straight to the locker room to change quickly. After cramming his things inside his locker, he glanced up to Katsuki's (or what used to be his locker) – a habit he inexplicably picked up after the skater left. In a few more months, it would be a year since the skater last graced the rink and his locker continued to remain undisturbed. Viktor didn't know if that was a good sign or a bad one. Was Katsuki ever coming back?

 

Maybe if Viktor had been nicer...

 

 

It was a few hours later when Viktor started wondering why he was still on the ice – or in the rink for that matter. Normally, a couple hours in and Yakov would come screeching at him to get off the ice and go somewhere else to train or find inspiration or whatever. Needless it was to say that Viktor oftentimes found himself walking back home even before lunch time.

 

Today, it was different. Today, strangely enough, Yakov barely spared him a glance as the coach busied himself alternating between screaming at the skaters and scanning the entire rink with his eyes. He had to wonder if the coach had gotten tired of him and had opted to ignore his existence altogether. He was honestly not sure how to feel about that.

 

Viktor sighed to himself. Was it really too early to ponder retirement?

 

He got himself off the ice. These days, he didn't really have the appetite, but as an athlete with a strict diet, he couldn't exactly ignore the needs of his body. His brain might not feel the need for food, but his body did. So, with that thought, Viktor headed for the break room.

 

At 22, Viktor thought that it _was_ too early to even consider retirement. He still had a few good years in him. His body was still very much capable in meeting the demands of his chosen sport. He could still win so many medals and earn more money to add into his account. He was still so young and was at the top of his career.

 

But...

 

Viktor looked up as he heard loud voices and laughter coming from the break room. He frowned.

 

That was new.

 

Finally reaching the door, Viktor walked inside warily. There was a good number of people gathered around one of the tables, laughing and talking cheerfully. He scanned the area to know what got everyone in such a good mood, and there, in the middle of the group, stood Japan's Ace Yuri Katsuki.

 

Viktor found himself gaping at the sight. The other skater was talking happily with everyone and there Viktor was by the door, frozen and gaping, and slightly wondering if he was seeing things. Was Katsuki really back after a year of absence? Was that really Katsuki? He looked a bit taller but his face remained the same – eternal blush on his cheeks: check, sparkling chocolate brown eyes: check, messy hair that reached his eyes: check, blue-rimmed glasses: check, pink kissable lips: che – _STOP IT RIGHT THERE, NIKIFOROV! That's your rival dammit!_

 

Just as he felt the heat bloom on his face, Katsuki's eyes met his. Viktor swore he felt his breath catch.

 

“Ah... Viktor... Hello.”

 

Every head in the group turned towards him after Katsuki's greeting, but Viktor didn't pay them any mind. Katsuki was indeed here! Katsuki came back! Katsuki just greeted him! AND VIKTOR COULDN'T FIND HIS VOICE!

 

“Ignore him, Yuri,” Mila seethed somewhere in the group. Viktor continued to stand by the entrance. Right at this moment, he was painfully aware of how unwelcome he was in the break room. Everyone was giving him sharp looks and it didn't escape him how they all crowded around Katsuki protectively. Viktor knew he was horrible to Katsuki before. He knew that he had this coming. He knew that he deserved this, but...

 

“My name's Phichit.” Viktor blinked and noticed for the first time a hand extended to him for a handshake. Looking up, he came face to face with a young boy with tanned skin and shiny black hair. Big shimmering gray eyes blinked back at him. “I'll start training here, by the way. My coach will be Celestino!”

 

“Don't come near him, Phichit,” Mila warned darkly. “He's just going to ignore you anyway.”

 

Wow. Just wow, Mila.

 

Setting aside the hurt that he felt, Viktor grasped the young boy's hand for a handshake.

 

“Viktor Nikiforov.”

 

“I know!” the boy, Phichit, chirped happily before pulling Viktor towards the skaters. “I'm a fan! But Yuri is an even bigger fan! ”

 

“P-Phichit!” Katsuki blushed as he tried to duck out of view. Viktor, feeling encouraged and undaunted by the protective group surrounding the Japanese skater, allowed himself to step closer. The other skaters tensed as they waited in bated breath for any sign of whatever they might have imagined Viktor to be capable of doing.

 

He stared at Katsuki. Katsuki, on his part, tried to look away, blushing harder than ever before. Eventually, Katsuki found the courage to look Viktor in the eyes albeit bashfully. Viktor slowly blinked as he reigned in a feeling he couldn't quite identify.

 

“It's been a while,” he found himself say quietly.

 

Katsuki flinched at the sound of his voice but turned confused at Viktor's words.

 

“Ah... Ah, yes... It's been a while...”

 

Encouraged, Viktor breathed in. “I... Welcome back.”

 

The Japanese skater's eyes widened in disbelief, making Viktor feel acutely self-conscious. If the other skater reacted like this with a mere greeting, it could only just mean how badly Viktor had treated him before.

 

“Thank you...” Katsuki said breathlessly. “I-I'm glad to be back!”

 

Viktor nodded, suddenly feeling hot in the face. Not knowing what else to say, especially with so many eyes watching the two of them, Viktor made to turn away and leave,

 

“E-Excuse me then.”

 

“Wait!” He paused and turned back. Katsuki walked over to him carrying a paper bag. “I-I hope you will accept this...”

 

Viktor frowned at the bag, not really understanding why.

 

“I told you not to bother with him, Yuri!” Mila exclaimed from the side.

 

Viktor chose to ignore her for the nth time. “W-What is this for?”

 

The slowly abating tension in the room roared back to life as the other skaters began to whisper amongst themselves. He could clearly hear Phichit asking everyone what was wrong.

 

“Souvenirs,” his rival answered quietly. “I... I just thought...”

 

“You...” Viktor swallowed the words of disbelief deep into his throat; words expressing his hesitation, words expressing his guilt, words expressing just how undeserving he felt. Katsuki thought of him even after everything Viktor did. He gingerly took the paper bag and in that split moment of his fingers touching Katsuki's, he realized just how much this meant to the other skater. Katsuki's hands were shaking. “Thank you...”

 

The murmurs in the room stopped as everyone gaped. Katsuki's eyes widened again before his face broke to a full-blown smile that took Viktor's breath away. He couldn't, for the life of him, look away. Katsuki's eyes shimmered like gems and his smile was as dazzling as the sun that broke through the grays in Viktor's mind.

 

“Smitten yet, Viktor?” someone, definitely that other Asian boy, called out. Katsuki gasped as he threw a glare at Phichit. Viktor, on his part, swallowed uncomfortably, not really knowing what to make of the sudden pressure in his chest.

 

Katsuki turned back to him with his trademark shy smile. “I hope you'll like them.”

 

He didn't know what to say, so he nodded instead. Katsuki went back to their table and Viktor went ahead to get his lunch.

 

For some reason, the food passed through his throat much easier today.

 

 

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**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**1.** Follow me here:<https://twitter.com/FloaterEli>

 **2.** Yes, Hibeki Saito still exists in this world. What can I say? I've come to be attached to the guy. :D I don't think Mikhail Belinsky will be here though because I can't find a good role for him :(

 **3.** I've doubled by work hours, that's why the updates are delayed. I apologize. Adulting is necessary, apparently. * sigh *

 **4\. TKY Update:** Not yet. Sorry, people. I really do try my best but I just don't have much time. I'm writing it little by little though. Currently, I have 16 pages.

 **5.** I'm honestly not happy with the arrangement of Ojisama's Quest so far. I'm thinking of editing it in the future. Not soon since obviously, I'm already about ready to die. When I have more time, I think or when I've finished TKY. Just sharing the thought. What do you think?

 **6.** Also, remember my eyebags? Congratulate me! They've given birth! T.T I need to invest on some eye cream 'coz sleep is not a choice. Ha ha ha ha... I swear I'm seeing some irregularities in my eyeballs... * sigh *

 **7.** This chapter was supposed to be longer but I haven't really updated for a while and the ending of this chapter was a very good part to end it so... Here you go. 

 **8.** I may not be able to reply to your comments right away. I really am so sorry. I will probably just be uploading this and then go back to work. Such is my life. Well, thank you for reading and see you next chapter!

 


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